Dark Side of the Moon
by Fantasia-the-Crazy
Summary: I never chose to become this way; they forced it upon me. It broke both my heart and my soul. There are two sides to every story, and it's not always the more common one that you should believe. Rated M because life is seldom kitten-friendly.
1. Introduction

Can anyone be born truly evil?

Perhaps I should rephrase the question: What _is_ evil? Is it an emotion? Or is it a lifestyle choice? Or, like a missing hand or an attraction to others of the same sex, is it merely something you are born with and can't do a bloody thing about?

The true answer to this question is one that has been disputed over since the dawn of time. It seems as though everyone has their own separate answer based on what they choose to believe. But not I. My answer to this primordial question isn't quite as simple as a "yes" or "no", and it is not my faith – or as the case may be, my lack thereof – that provides me with this answer; it's experience. My _own_ cruel, harsh experience. I believe that everyone is born with an equal balance of good and evil; and over time, one side will take precedence over the other – the side that they let show, and nurture.

Or, in my case, the side that is encouraged by others. There's not always a choice, and likewise, it is not always the encouraged side that is favored by those who encourage it . . . because they may not even realize what it is that they are doing. They haven't the slightest idea of the horrible ways in which their path may twist by foolishly telling one cat what he can't do.

I am Macavity. And this is my story.

The name changes everything, doesn't it? You thought this would be some sort of heroic tale about some softhearted, pathetic little Jellicle. Ignorant little mary-sues, the lot of them. Not one of them could do an ounce of evil if their blissful little lives depended on it. The story you're about to be told doesn't focus on the ever-so-pure, so-angelic-it-makes-me-sick tribe of miserable cats and their trite little Jellicle Ball. It's not about a beautiful, evoking search for some cat's inner peace and tranquility. No, in this story you will learn what a _real_ protagonist is, and how truly unfair and cruel a place the world is. It's time you woke up from your dream, little kitten, and learned how life really works.

You think I'm just an evil, depraved lunatic. I know. Honestly, the rubbish they drive into kits' heads these days. Evil and depraved I most certainly am; there's no use in denying what they have made of me. Not anymore. But I am not, never have been, and never will be a _lunatic_. A lunatic, a madman, a psychopath – they are all synonymous with one thing in my case: falsehoods. Bloody falsehoods, rumors originally dreamt up to scare kits but that are now so naïvely lived and breathed by everything this side of London with a brain and four limbs. And even that's polite, for looking at some of those blasted Jellicles would make you doubt that the brain was even necessary. Perhaps, ultimately, that was why I was cast out?

But I digress. If you wish to turn your back on my story without giving it so much as a passing glance, then do so. Believe me, I have long since desensitized to the lack of pity from that odious tribe whose name I scarcely dare to mention even to this day; one more ignorant, careless soul can't do much harm. But the tale of a normal cat who has lived bereft of the most basic rights that even a newborn kitten should be entitled to – if this intrigues you, then stay. I ask only for what I deserve: a chance.

I mentioned earlier that the Jellicles are all perfect mary-sues who couldn't ever do a thing wrong. Well, that isn't exactly true. For you see, _they_ are the ones who made me who I am today. _They_ are responsible for everything I've ever done wrong, all of the crimes I have ever committed. You may know me as a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity, the Napoleon of Crime . . . but it is only because of _them_ that I have become this way. My image has been sculpted in the broken mold of their wrongdoings and by no fault of my own. It's shocking to learn that such perfect cats could ever construct a mistake as big as me, yes?

Read on, and you will discover that evil comes in many forms; its true face is often the most innocent face of all. You will learn what evil _truly_ is, and how it can only ever breed more of its kind. They say that good will always arise from bad, but I can safely say that they are wrong. There is more to what we consider "good" than meets the eye, much like there are always two sides to every story. Even the Jellicle Moon has a dark side, and it is this side whose guiding light illuminates the path I am now forever doomed to walk day and night.

-M.


	2. Chapter 1

I suppose I'd best get on with the story. Very well, but be warned – the content in these following chapters is not for the faint of heart. What is about to be revealed is no less than each and every detail that has sculpted my image, and as you will soon find out, the harsh realities of life are seldom kitten-friendly. But if, after all of these warnings, you are still inspired to stay and hear me out, then I salute you. Right then – I may as well start from the beginning.

I was a kitten like any other. Happy, playful, innocent . . . wide-eyed and curious about the mysterious ways of the world and everything in it. I could find amusement for hours on end with nothing but a ball of string or an old, torn up toy mouse that I found among the junk heaps that were my home. I had my share of friends, and the tribe's adults and elders all adored me . . . perhaps due to the fact that I was the first (and, at that time, only) son of Old Deuteronomy.

Ah, now there's a name I haven't uttered in a while. Deuteronomy. The old fleabag who does nothing but sit on that blasted tire day and night, and yet who is looked up to and fawned upon as the noble patriarch among that tribe of brainless excuses for cats. I doubt that they'll ever figure out that all that glitters is not gold.

And yet there was a time when I too looked up to him, respected him, loved him . . . not just as a ruler, but as a father. As far as I was concerned, he was the best cat in the world. Never shall I forget one day when he took me in his lap, gazing out across the clearing with wisdom of the years gone by playing across his ever-vigilant face.

"Macavity," he said to me, "my son . . . one day, all of this will be yours."

Following his gaze, I looked out at the junkyard too. It looked like a bunch of dirt with putrid rubbish heaped up as far as the eye could see. "All of it, Daddy?" I asked, my young eyes glowing with wonder and unspoiled innocence.

Deuteronomy nodded. "Yes, Macavity. Everything, from that little patch of grass over there to this tire we're sitting on right now."

"But it's all so big," I observed in my little voice. "How can I rule over the grass if it's taller than I am?"

"You'll grow," he promised, a gentle glow of amusement shining in those wise old eyes. "And as you do, you'll learn all that there is to know – I'll see to that myself. Then, one day, when the time comes . . . you, my son, will succeed me as the next leader of the Jellicle Tribe."

I beamed. Me, Jellicle Leader! From the moment he spoke those words, I already couldn't wait until the day came: the day when I would ascend to the head of the tribe. Such a horrible fate that nowadays I'm almost glad that that privilege was taken away from me. But, still being young and impressionable without a care in the world, my young mind began to drift off to fantasies so magnificent that they snatched the voice right out of me. Neither of us had any idea about the sick twist of fate that would turn my whole world around, and the day that those very same words would chase away all of the goodness in my heart.

Deuteronomy chuckled. Nudging me with a gentle paw, he told me, "Run along now, little one. You are young; go on and enjoy it while you still can."

I nodded obediently, hopping down from his lap and carefully climbing off of the tire before gleefully scampering away, grabbing the fuzzy yellow ball I'd been playing with earlier.

A moment later, before I knew what was going on, I was flat on my stomach on the ground. The ball rolled just out of reach of my stubby paws, and I became conscious of a weight on my back, pinning me down. A playful giggle sounded, and the weight suddenly lifted as a pretty black-and-gold queen-kit, just a bit younger than myself, trotted up from behind me and plopped down on the ground, scooping the ball into her arms. "This is mine," she told me with a cheeky grin.

"Deme!" I whined as I sat up, brushing the dirt off of myself. "I found it! Finders keepers!"

"Losers weepers," Demeter finished for me. "You lost it when you dropped it. And I found it again, so now it's mine."

I pouted. "But that's not fair!" I complained. "You _made_ me drop it! That's different, that is!"

She shrugged. "You shoulda been paying more attention, then. What were you so happy about, anyway?"

"Oh yeah . . ." The ball instantly forgotten, I grinned widely. "My daddy says I'm gonna be Jellicle Leader one day," I boasted proudly.

A look of wonder entered Demeter's eyes. "Wow . . . you? Leader? No way!"

"Way," I retorted playfully. Eyeing the ball, I added, "So that means you're gonna hafta start listening to what I say . . . and I say that the ball is mine!" And with that, I snatched it back from her, mischief glinting in my eyes.

She just grinned. "But you're not the leader yet," she pointed out. "So I don't hafta listen if I don't wanna." Giggling cheekily, she poked me in the arm and then proceeded to try to grab the ball out of my grasp.

I know what you're thinking. _That can't be Demeter. It's nothing like her._ But it is. I haven't lost it and gone completely senile yet, you know. This bouncy young kitten and the paranoid queen you're thinking of are indeed one and the same. After all, everyone changes with time, don't they? If you must know, however, I will admit that this change can be attributed to me as well. You've heard stories, no doubt, about the terrible things that I did to this poor queen . . . and I assure you, all will be explained in due course. But for now, I will simply say that we used to be the best of friends, she and I. We did everything together; wherever one of us was, the other was never far behind. We never thought anything could separate us, much like I never imagined that one cruel twist of fate could snatch my destiny away from me right out from under my nose.

How wrong I was.


	3. Chapter 2

And so my young life continued. It's all just a blur now, really. My kittenhood was an anticlimactic cycle of playing, eating, and sleeping. I was a perfectly normal child in every way, as you have seen. Thus the brevity of the previous chapter; I could have rambled on for pages yet about what constituted my daily life, but the last thing I would want to do is bore you with the remarkable normalcy of it all. What, then, made me wander down the road less traveled by?

It all began one evening when I returned home for the night after a day full of running around like the stupid kit I was, boasting to anyone and everyone about my future role as leader. I tramped inside our cozy little den to find my parents both sitting there, side-by-side, waiting for me. Sensing the unspoken news hovering like a vulture in the air, I paused. "Is there something wrong?" I asked innocently, my gaze flitting back and forth between both parents.

After exchanging a glance with Old Deuteronomy, my mother looked down at me and scooped me into her lap. "Macavity, sweetie," she began in her soft voice, "you're going to have a little brother or sister soon."

My initial reaction, contrary to what you might think, was pure, unadulterated joy. Little ears standing straight up on my head, I began to bounce up and down in Mother's lap. "Really?" I squeaked delightedly. "When? When am I gonna have a new brother or sister?"

Mother chuckled quietly. "Be patient, darling. The kitten won't come for another two months."

I frowned a tiny bit and stopped bouncing. "Two months?" I complained. "But that's a right long time, that is! Why can't it come right now?"

"The kitten has to grow first, son," my father told me. "If it came right now, it wouldn't be big enough or strong enough to survive. It's not even the size of your paw yet."

I looked at my paw. It was tiny compared to Deuteronomy's. Blinking in confusion, I pestered, "Well, where is it, then? If you know how big it is, then that means you can see it, right?"

Mother shook her head. "No, sweetie. The kitten is growing in here." She lightly patted her belly with one paw. "We can't see it for two more months yet. It needs time to grow and get bigger before the Everlasting Cat decides to let it come out."

I pouted. "I can't wait that long," I whined. "It didn't take that long for _me_ to grow, did it? I've always been this big!"

Father shook his head, an amused grin winding across his face. "You were that small once," he corrected me. "And at one time, you were growing inside of your mother as well."

Frowning and now more confused than ever, I looked at where Mother's paw was. "But I'd never fit in there!" I observed. "And how did I get out, then?"

"Every kitten grows and develops the same way," Mother replied readily. "Even you. You see, when the Everlasting Cat sees that a tom and a queen love each other very very much, sometimes He will send a tiny kitten to grow inside of the mother for two months. And when the kitten gets big enough, He gives it a little push, and it comes out in the miracle of birth. Now, the Everlasting Cat only sent this kitten to us a few nights ago, so we must all be patient until He decides that the kitten is big enough to be born."

For several moments, I simply sat there as the sugar-coated explanation sunk in. "Oh . . . all right," I mewed in bewilderment. "But . . . does it have to be a tom and a queen? If the Everlasting Cat sees that two toms or two queens love each other, what happens then?"

A long and very awkward pause ensued. Mother and Father looked at each other, neither of them knowing quite what to say.

"I think you've asked enough questions for one night," Mother finally told me, picking me up and setting me on the floor. "Right, then, off you go to bed, Macavity. We can talk more in the morning." She gave me a gentle nudge in the direction of my room.

I cast one last confused look back at my parents, but then I simply shrugged it off. I was going to be a big brother, and that was all that really mattered to me. So, I blissfully skipped off to bed, eager to tell everyone the delightful news the next day.

You're most likely not familiar with Mother. Epellina was her name. An elegant queen with luxurious long fur the exact color and consistency of spun golden silk. I recall that she had eyes somewhere halfway between green and yellow. A white chest and muzzle, white arms, and white tail-tip, and decorated with flecks of brown and black all along her body. Ah, yes . . . oftentimes I can still see her just as she was in life, sitting outside and gazing down over the junkyard, tail lazily swishing back and forth, the sun glinting off of her perfect golden fur. Or inside, humming a little tune to herself while I drifted off into a midday nap right there in her arms. Every time I got into trouble, every little time I fell and scraped my knee, Mother was always there to dry my tears. Throughout the first few hazy, yet somehow memorable years of my life, I can't recall that she ever had an unkind word to say about anyone. And yet if not for her, I would very likely still be back there in that blasted junkyard, living the happy, ordinary life I always dreamed of having. But now those dreams are my worst nightmares, haunted most of all by Mother's face, her lips parted in a silent lament and tears of blood sliding down her cheeks. I hear her voice moaning in my ear, telling me that I have failed – failed as a defender of the tribe, failed as a role model, failed as a son. I try telling myself what has been done can't be undone; what's dead is dead. Life is too short, too futile to dwell upon the past and wish that you could change the inevitable. But this lifetime of bitter regret and resentment is precisely what's made me who I am today. And if I am forever doomed to stay up at night begging my dead mother for forgiveness, then so be it; I've no one to blame but myself.

-x-X-x-

"Deme! Deme!" I shouted, racing across the clearing and not caring that I was most likely waking half of the junkyard up. I had news, and I was going to make it known no matter what.

"What? What?" she called back, eagerly scampering out to join me.

I skidded to a stop, taking a moment to catch my breath. Then, drawing in a puff of air, I belted out, "I'm gonna be a big brother!"

Her ears flicked up excitedly. "Really? Oh, Maccy, that's incredible!" she squealed, giving a happy little bounce.

I nodded rapidly, grinning ear to ear. "Mummy's having a kitten in two months, she is!" I elaborated. "I really hope it's a tom. I always wanted a little brother!"

Demeter tipped her head to one side. "Oh . . . I've always wanted a little sister myself," she replied. "But if you're excited, then so am I! I haven't ever seen a newborn kitten before, but everyone says they're right adorable!"

"I don't care how cute it is, I just wanna little brother!" I repeated, balling up my fists impatiently. "But Mummy and Daddy told me we can't find out for two more months! I can't wait that long! It's right impossible, it is!"

"I know!" she agreed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why do we hafta wait, then?"

I scrunched up my brow, trying to remember. "Uh . . . I dunno," I admitted. "They said that the kitten has to have time to grow before the Everlasting Cat pushes it out or something."

"Out?" she repeated curiously. "Out of where?"

"Well . . . the kitten is growing in Mummy's belly," I explained, trying to sound smart. "But I dunno where it comes out. They wouldn't tell me."

"Grown-ups are right weird," Demeter commented.

"Yeah," I agreed. "I don't ever wanna be one. I'm gonna stay this way forever, I am."

Oh, what I wouldn't give to make that wish come true, even today.

"Me too," Demeter decided with a nod. "Besides, grown-ups are so _boring_ too. They're always so busy sitting around and talking and they never take the time to play with us."

"Mm-hmm." But my eyes suddenly lit up with an idea. "But we can still play with each other, right?"

She giggled happily. "Of course!" Reaching forward, she poked me. "Tag, you're it!" And she raced off, leaving me to chase after her.

So, there you have it: my childhood in a nutshell. Not the horrible, torturous upbringing you were expecting, was it? Instead, just the opposite. I was a perfectly normal kitten with a perfectly normal family and perfectly normal friends in every perfectly normal way. My best friend and I were inseparable, naïvely believing that nothing could ever tear us apart. And now I was getting a little sibling! I had it made; my life was perfect. No one could have predicted that all of that kittenish innocence would begin to slip away forever from the moment the little striped freak was born.


	4. Chapter 3

It was well past midnight. All of the Jellicles had long since retired to their cozy little dens, lighthearted and carefree as always, looking forward to a nice long night's sleep. The moon, half full, cast a calming, silent glow over the towering heaps of junk, touching everything to a soft shade of silver. The entire junkyard seemed to hold its breath, so as not to disturb the peaceful slumber of those concealed snugly among the scraps of garbage.

That was the way it seemed, at least, in every den except one. For hours, I had been sitting wide awake in bed, able to concentrate on nothing but the heart-rending screams and wails permeating through the walls of my parents' room. I knew nothing except for what my mother had told me as she tucked me into bed earlier that evening: that the kitten inside of her would be due to arrive at any time. I wasn't sure why, but from the moment the first blood-chilling cry split the night air, I knew that this had to be it. Thinking it best not to interfere with whatever was happening, I could do nothing but sit there, trying as best I could to suppress my curiosity and merely hope that everything was going well.

The seconds dragged on into minutes, and the minutes into painful hours. I was beginning to debate whether or not to run for help when Old Deuteronomy appeared in the doorway to my room, a wide smile on his wise old face. "Macavity . . ." he quietly called to me. "Your new baby brother is waiting to meet you."

My ears flicked straight up, and I grinned as well. It was a tom after all! "A brother!" I cheered, hopping to my paws. I scampered right up to my father and gave him a big hug, about ready to burst with pride and joy.

Father chuckled. "That's right," he confirmed, ruffling my messy headfur and then leading me into their room. Mother lay on her side, her eyes closed, but a soft purr flowing from her revealed that she was still awake. And curled up in the curve of her belly was the tiniest cat I'd ever seen. My face fell when I saw it. Scarcely even the size of Father's paw, the only movement from it was the faint rise and fall of its sides as it peacefully slept. It was covered in fine, downy fur the same shade of silver as the glow of the moonlight outside, broken up by bold ebony stripes that formed a perfect classic tabby pattern. Its eyes were tightly closed and its ears were rounded and nearly flat against its head. It had a stubby tail that was pointed at the end, and fragile, bony paws with thinner fur on them than the rest of him. I tilted my head to one side. "It looks like a rat," I observed, obviously disappointed.

Lifting her head, Mother tiredly blinked her eyes open. "He was just born, sweetie," she yawned. "You looked that way too as a newborn."

I made a face.

"His name is Munkustrap," Mother continued. "And I think he's already a handsome little boy."

I blinked. That was a word I couldn't remember her using in reference to me. "I'm handsome too, right, Mummy?" I asked hopefully.

There was a pause, and I felt my heart sink when Mother wearily answered, "Oh . . . yes, of course you are, Macavity . . ."

Father was still smiling proudly. "Don't be so harsh, son. Give your brother a chance. I can tell that he's going to shape up to be a fine young prince."

Another word I'd never heard about me. "But I thought _I_ was the prince!" I protested, balling up my fists in frustration. Woken by the sudden disturbance in the room, the kitten let out a pitiful mewl.

Mother drew the squirming bundle closer to her with a gentle paw, placing a few licks on the top of his head to calm him. "Ssh," she scolded me. "Munkustrap needs his rest."

"And so do you," Father quickly added, beginning to briskly usher me back toward my room. "Everyone is a little tired and cranky right now. It'll all be better in the morning." Lightly pushing me inside, he closed the door and left without another word on the matter, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

First impressions, they say, are often entirely wrong. I certainly hoped so in this case. It had been a long night, and we all needed our sleep. It was just like Father said; everything would be back to normal when we woke up. And who knew? Maybe this little brother would grow up to be a good friend and companion to me. Perhaps we would go on walks around the territory together, hunting and playfighting just as two brothers should. Besides, Father made me a promise. I would be leader one day no matter what, that much I could count on. No baby brother of mine was going to take that away, and if I had to, I would make sure of that myself.

-x-X-x-

I woke up to the murmur of many voices resonating through the den. Sitting up and curiously blinking the sleep from my eyes, I noticed that the bright sunlight was already slanting in through the windows instead of the pale dawn glow I normally awoke to. Frowning a bit, I hopped out of bed and peeked out of my room to see half the tribe assembled right there in the den, lined up to see the new kitten. Awestruck whispers rippled through the crowd as the cats fawned over my new baby brother, who I couldn't even see through the throng of my tribemates. As I spotted Old Deuteronomy weaving his way to the door, I scampered up to him. "Daddy?"

He glanced down at me, the tiniest hint of a frown on his face. "Now, Macavity . . . most princes I know don't go around calling their fathers 'Daddy'." Turning away from me, he continued on his way.

I scrunched up my brow, terribly confused. "Okay . . . um . . . Dad?" I tried meekly.

He turned back to me with a nod. "That's better. Now, what is it that you want?"

My ears ducked. "Why didn't you wake me up this morning?" I asked quietly, swishing my tail back and forth apprehensively.

"We figured that you wouldn't want to be surrounded by a bunch of adults all morning," he replied simply. A condescending hint in his voice, he continued, "Besides, the future leader needs to learn to take care of himself. You won't always have parents around to tell you when to get up in the morning."

The coldness in his manner was scaring me. "Dadd—Dad?" I caught and corrected myself just in time. "What's going on? You've never said any of that before!"

"You're not a helpless kitten anymore, Macavity," Deuteronomy replied coolly, turning away again. "And you're not an only child, either. Things are going to be different around here from now on, so you're going to have to adjust." Leaving it at that, he silently exited the den.

With a frightened whimper, I turned to head back to my parents' room. After pushing my way in around the swarm of cats, I found Demeter there, holding paws with her mother – a very glamorous queen with a luxurious silver coat that was worn over her fine tortoiseshell pelt. She lived alone with her young daughter; no one quite knew what happened to Demeter's father. My friend looked up and, seeing me, smiled sweetly. "G'morning, Maccy," she mewed in greeting.

"'Morning . . ." I replied absently, more than just a bit distracted by everything going on.

"Your new brother's adorable, he is!" she told me with a cheerful giggle, ignoring my sour mood.

My mouth fell open slightly and I felt my heart sink. "But what about _me_?" I asked, almost to myself.

She blinked. "But . . . you hate it when I call you that," she reminded me with a frown.

I just shook my head. "Even you . . ." I muttered, trudging forward and hopping onto the bed to sit beside my mother. She held the kitten in her lap, still tiny, blind, and helpless and still looking like a rat with tabby fur.

Demeter's mother then spoke. "It's tiny," she observed, looking quite unimpressed. "A tiny, squeaky little thing."

Epellina raised an eyebrow, delicately stroking day-old Munkustrap's fur. "He was only born last night, Grizabella. I can remember when Macavity was the same way – and Demeter, too." She placed an arm around me. It was the first logical thing anyone had done all day.

Grizabella just shook her head. "I'd expect far more from the son of our leader," she stated rather snootily. "This one doesn't look like he'll amount to much." She turned around, tugging on her daughter's paw to signal her to follow. "Come along, Demeter."

The queen-kit obediently trailed along behind her, but turned around and waved good-bye to me before she disappeared. I didn't wave back.

I could feel Mother's gentle, warm gaze resting on me. "Macavity?" she asked quietly. "Is there something wrong, sweetie?"

"What's wrong with Dad today?" I mumbled. "He's acting right strange, he is . . . is he feeling all right?"

But there was no response. Lifting my head curiously, I narrowed my eyes as I saw Mother now with her full attention focused on the kitten, who was now hungrily mewling for food. Epellina was fully ignoring me. With a sigh, I pushed myself off the bed and turned to trudge outside. "My own mother . . ." I grumbled to myself, biting my lip and holding back an onslaught of childish tears.

Once outside, I sulked over to a far corner of the junkyard and curled up there, wanting to be left alone. But it seemed I couldn't even have _that_ anymore. No more than a minute had passed before something warm and furry curled up next to me.

"Go away, Deme," I mumbled without looking up.

But Demeter didn't go away. "Maccy . . . what's wrong?" she pleaded softly. "Please tell me . . . you're making me worried, you are."

"I never would've wanted a little brother if I knew he was gonna make everyone forget about me," I sniffled, shoving my muzzle under my paws.

"They haven't forgotten you, Maccy," Demeter told me softly, leaning over to give me a friendly nuzzle on the shoulder. "They're just busy, they are. It's normal for everyone to make a big deal over a new kitten . . . and your brother _is_ really cute—"

I didn't want to hear another word of it. "Yes, so much that my parents think he's handsomer than me and treat _him_ like more of a prince than _I_ should rightfully be!" I snapped, suddenly lifting my head and glaring at her. "And now my best friend thinks he's cuter than me, too! Leave me alone, Demeter!"

Startled by the sudden outburst, she scooted away from me with wide eyes. "I didn't mean it that way, Maccy," she whimpered. "It's just that everything is cute as a baby and I've never seen a newborn kitten before—"

"I don't care!" I yelled, tears now streaming down my cheeks. "Just get away from me! I want to be alone!"

She obediently scrambled to her paws and began to back away. "You'll always be the real prince to me, Maccy," she meekly mewed before she disappeared. "I don't care how many brothers you get or what they look like . . . you're still the best. And you _are_ gonna be leader some day, and when you are, I'm gonna be beside you all the way. I might not be big or strong or smart, but I know I can promise you that."


	5. Chapter 4

That night, I finally managed to calm down. Demeter never came back, and no one gave a second thought to me all day – of course. They were all obsessing over my new baby brother, Munkus_crap_. As night finally fell, I sat up and looked around. Normally, my parents would have come looking for me by now . . . but it seemed as though the entire junkyard was oblivious to my presence. I, a mere point in space, a meaningless moment in time, was momentarily forgotten in the rush. I was no longer the adored and revered single son of Old Deuteronomy – I had been replaced by a feeble, pathetic scrap of fur who couldn't even see. It was a harsh and crippling blow to my young ego: the first of many.

Bearing this new knowledge heavily and grudgingly in my little mind, I rose to my paws and slipped out of the junkyard quietly and without a clue where I was going. I just needed to escape from my life – over which, it seemed, I had no control in the least.

I found myself amidst a field of hard, caked dirt and large chunks of gravel that poked into the soft pads of my paws when I trod upon them. This dirt-and-gravel mixture began at what appeared to be a large swinging gate on the front of the dilapidated wire fence that encircled the perimeter of my junkyard home; the gate was securely fastened by a lock so severely rusted and eroded away that it didn't seem as though it would ever open again. Looking back, I spotted an area at the corner of the fence where the wire had been broken off, leaving a gap the perfect size for a cat to squeeze through: the junkyard entrance. The broken edges of the wire were jagged and sharp, and permanently stained brown along with the rest of the fence after decades' worth of rain and weather. A thinly wooded forest stretched out as far as the eye could see in every direction, carpeted by soggy brown leaves and lush undergrowth. The trees stood, steadfast and resolute, towering above me, rendered ominous silhouettes against the blackening night sky. Ahead of me, a wide, yet scraggly path wound through these woods, composed of that same conglomerate of dirt and rocks, interrupted by the occasional brush or shrub that sprouted in the middle of it. The whole place had a sorry and lonely feel to it, and it wasn't hard to see that it was long forgotten by civilization. Clouds were gathering in the sky that night, wafting slowly past the moon and casting ghostly shadows across the ground. As a night breeze stirred in the otherwise perfectly still air, the trees swished, whispering to each other. Ignoring their silent gossip, I took a few steps forward, following the path. All of a sudden, the junkyard seemed very small.

Nevertheless, trying to appear undaunted by this massive world around me, I pressed on. Once, I glanced at my paw pads to discover with a jolt that I was bleeding – the sharp rocks must have penetrated my skin. Wincing, I stepped off the path and continued trekking along the side of it, leaving scarlet pawprints on the leafy carpet.

I continued onward for what felt like half the night, following the overgrown path all the way. Although my pads were no longer bleeding, my paws ached horribly from the journey. I was beginning to consider turning back when I spotted a break in the trees just ahead. Ears pricking with curiosity, I scampered forward and finally slid out of the woods onto a field of prickly, untamed grass. The path I had been following tapered to an end here, reduced to nothing more than a scatter of rocks. Glancing around, I noticed something that at first appeared to be another tree – but this was much shorter than any of the trees I'd seen in the woods, and its trunk was perfectly square. At the top, it abruptly became wide and flattened out, and a series of strange symbols were carelessly scrawled on it. I remembered Father telling me that humans used symbols like this to communicate without speaking. I'd thought it was pointless – if a human had something to say, why couldn't he just say it?

Giving up on deciphering the strange words on the sign, I looked ahead of me. The grass quickly thinned out too, to be replaced with a hard gray surface. At the edge of this surface not far away, a massive machine sat perched facing toward the woods I had just stumbled out of. It was balanced upon four round black things, and it looked a lot like that scrap of metal back in the corner of the junkyard. In a flash, I remembered that Father had called these things "cars". But this car was much larger than the one in the junkyard – the entire front end was at least twice as big, and an enormous oblong metal box sat on the back of it. This box had more strange words written on it. I stared at the gigantic car for several moments, but then pressed on. In the middle of the gray surface there loomed a colossal rectangular-shaped structure, made out of a hard, off-white material. Next to it, there was another one, and between them was a dark, narrow alley. I didn't see any way around these buildings, so I scampered to the alleyway and crept through.

Before I got too far, I stopped and lifted my nose in the air. There was a familiar smell here: cats! But they didn't smell like the cats back in the junkyard – instead, these cats had a rancid, almost sickening scent that reminded me more of the rubbish in the junkyard than of the cats who lived there. And before another thought could cross my mind, a black feline shape sprang out of nowhere, landing squarely in front of me.

I let out a startled screech and jumped back, only to discover another one right behind me. In the low light, I couldn't see them very well, and all that I could make out was a bunch of startlingly skinny shapes with dirty, matted fur, putrid breath, and eyes that gleamed like the embers of a dying fire. I stood, trembling, unable to speak and rooted to the spot with pure terror.

"Well, well, well," one of them leered in a gravelly meow. "Wha' 've we got 'ere?"

"Looks loyke this li'le guy took a step too far ou'a the junkyahd," another commented.

I looked around, my eyes wide with fear. "Wh-wh-who're you lot?" I finally demanded, fluffing out my fur to make myself look bigger. "And how do you know where I'm from?"

"Feisteh li'l creature, i'n' 'e?" another one of the cats laughed. It was a condescending, mocking kind of laugh that nearly frightened the fur right off of me.

"Moynd yar own bizness," the first one growled. "Now, wha' ah yew doin' so fah from 'ome? The stree's a' London iz a dayngerous playce fer a ki'en, thay iz."

"Mind your own business!" I retorted, mocking the intimidating alley tom. Puffing out my chest boldly, I lied, "I know exactly where I am! I don't _need_ to go back!"

"Run away from 'ome, 'e 'az!" one of the other cats declared.

The first tom – who I quickly figured was their leader – simply continued to stare at me, never blinking, never twitching a whisker. "Yew be'a run back," he told me simply, extending a paw as if to push me back. "Otha'woyse we'll 'ave tah dispose a' yew 'owevah Oi see fit."

My eyes narrowed. I hadn't come this far to be patronized and told what to do by everyone – that was precisely what I'd escaped to get away from. Before the tom's paw could touch me, I lashed out with both front paws, claws extended, and snatched it with a sudden hiss. I dug my claws in relentlessly, suddenly becoming conscious of the murmurs of surprise and shock among the other cats.

The leader seemed surprised as well, and snatched his paw back with an irritated growl. Glancing down, an unexpected wave of satisfaction washed over me at the sight of his blood touching the tips of my claws to red.

"Tha' one's got a foyre in 'im, 'e 'az," one of the alley cats observed. The others nodded, awestruck. As they looked at me, I could see a new sense of respect glinting in their eyes, and I couldn't help but smile. These toms were at least three times my age, and yet I suddenly felt that I could take all of them under my command if I wanted them. And this newfound sense of power, this sense of control – there was no denying it. It felt _good_. After all the wrongs that had been done to me – and all the more yet to come – this sense of revenge suddenly felt so right. And this new feeling of being able to have anyone I wanted ready and willing at my beck and call only added to it.

But as I glanced around, I was hit with another thought that made my heart sink. A true leader shouldn't think like that. The true leader shouldn't have to thirst for power this way – he wouldn't need to. It would simply be given to him, rightfully and lawfully, and the cats under his command would serve him loyally and willingly, not by force. Something else struck me, too. The leader himself needed to stay loyal as well . . . and running off in the middle of the night was the surest way not to do that.

The leader cast a glare at his subjects, and they all promptly shut up. Then he turned back to me. "Oi said," he repeated in a threatening growl, "yew be'a run back tah yah junkyahd." He nudged me again, and this time I backed away, the slightest bit ashamed. "Yew are a toyny, steoopid ki'en, an' don' yew fo'get tha'. Yo' leadah taught us our propah playce yeahs ago . . . an' Oi sugges' tha' yew learn yours. Yew ain't, an' yew will nevah be, as strong or as powa'ful as yew think." He took a step forward, causing me to retreat even more. "So get out . . . or else we'll show yo' whole troybe wha' yew've been up tew."

These words, acidic with a condescending and bitter tone of undisguised loathing, sent a jolt of fury through me all anew. I was the future leader of the Jellicle Tribe, and I didn't need these flea-ridden mange-pelts ordering me around and blaming me for things that were far beyond my control – I got enough of that back at home as it was. So, I ran sure enough . . . but not before punching this tom square in the jaw. And while he reeled back with a screech of rage, to be surrounded by his brainless minions, _then_ I ran, and it was as though my paws couldn't carry me fast enough. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks, a burning mixture of shame, fury, and sheer frustration building up endlessly inside of me and pushing the salty excretions from my eyes. My fists were clenched and my ears were flat against my head. I bundled unceremoniously through bushes that I had worked around on my way up, leaving an array of thorns and burs lodged in my fur. The protruding stones on the abandoned path hardly hurt my aching paws anymore, though I was conscious of each and every one of them poking and prodding at me. Each one was a stinging insult in and of itself.

Finally, just as the sun broke over the horizon, the junkyard came into sight. Never before had a heap of moldy rubbish looked so welcoming. I made a mad dash for the entrance, but tripped over a tendril of some plant and ended up flat on my stomach on the ground. And there I lay until I sobbed myself to sleep, the alley tom's words echoing in my mind the whole time.


	6. Chapter 5

I woke to the sun casting its rays into my eyes. I was back in the junkyard, and at first I couldn't even remember why I'd run off the previous night. But then I saw my father's frowning face glowering down at me, and it all came flooding back.

Rubbing my head, I tried to sit up. My muscles, over-exerted from the impromptu exercise they had endured, screamed in protest. I winced and flopped back onto the dirt with a little grunt. "Dad, I—"

"Young tom, you had better explain yourself," Old Deuteronomy growled, cutting me off and making my heart sink even farther. "Where in the Heaviside Layer were you? Your mother was tearing her fur out with worry!"

_Just my mother?_ I flinched as I realized that he hadn't said one word about being worried himself. But at least Epellina was worried about me – that, if nothing else, was comforting. Maybe Demeter was right, and things really were returning to normal after all. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, and for a moment I truly meant it.

" 'Sorry' does not make a cat a prince," Deuteronomy snapped. "And it certainly does not compensate for an entire tribe of worried cats. Now, don't waste your breath on me, Macavity. Go explain yourself to your mother." He jerked me to my paws, and I hissed under my breath at the ache in my legs. With one massive paw, he pushed me toward the den by the tire, and for a flash, he suddenly reminded me of the alley tom leader. Muttering grudgingly under my breath, I began to trudge obediently across the clearing.

But halfway there, I stopped. What was it that the alley tom had said about my father? _Your leader taught us our proper place years ago . . ._ Curiosity sparked beneath my pelt; I had to know what was going on. I turned around. "Dad, wait . . . last night I ran into—"

"Go!" he snarled, making me quiver in my fur. Abandoning the question on the tip of my tongue, I turned again and obediently hurried to our den without another word.

"Macavity!" Epellina was waiting inside for me. As I stepped into the den, she rushed forward and scooped me into her arms. "My kitten . . . you had me so worried . . ."

"At least _someone_ was," I grumbled, hanging limply in her grasp like a ragdoll cat. A sudden flicker of hope arose inside me, however, as I noticed that my little brother wasn't anywhere in sight. "Wait . . . where's Munkustrap?"

If there was a flicker of hope, Mother's response quickly extinguished it and sent another wave of disappointment through me all anew. "He's sleeping," she murmured, setting me back on the ground. "He needs his rest."

I realized how foolish of me it had been to hope for anything else. But as a tiny mew rang through the den, Mother's ears flicked up and a smile wove across her delicate face. She turned and disappeared into her room, beckoning me with her tail to follow.

I scowled, but I obeyed. There was a warm, milky scent in the air that was oddly comforting after my little escapade; it reminded me of my own innocent days of early kittenhood. Curled up on my parents' bed was the tiny ball of tabby-patterned fuzz, beginning to squirm as he woke from his nap. As if he knew I was there, he lifted his head, causing me to jump, startled, at what I saw. Two half-open green eyes peeped up at me, seeming to struggle to pry themselves open the rest of the way.

"But . . ." I feebly tried to protest. "He's hardly two days old! How are his eyes open already?"

Mother sat down and scooped the kitten into her lap, purring softly. "I suppose he's just an early bloomer," she replied. The sappy tenderness in her voice nearly made me gag.

A half-growl sounded from somewhere deep down in my throat, but as Mother whisked her tail invitingly over the spot next to her, I couldn't refuse. I sat as well, and my legs sighed with relief at the rest.

Swiveling his tiny head all around, Munkustrap stared at his surroundings. After a moment, his half-open eyes settled on me. He mewed at me.

Mother smiled. "Say hello, dear," she murmured to me with a nod toward my baby brother.

I stared at the squirming kitten, not sure what to say. "Uh . . . hello, Munkustrap," I said to him after a few awkward seconds of silence.

"Who's that, Munky?" Mother cooed, cradling the kitten close to her. "Who's that big boy over there? Is that your brother? Hm? Is that your big brother Maccy?"

Munkustrap mewed again, this time sounding rather delighted by all of the attention on him. I had to admit that my baby brother was sort of cute, in the way that infant kittens are – so tiny and full of innocence, not yet corrupted or weaned to the cruelty of the world outside the den. He reminded me a bit of myself, truthfully, before I was stricken with the responsibilities of brotherhood.

I took a cautious breath. "Mum . . .?" I began quietly, my ears ducking. "Can . . . can I hold—"

"Absolutely not!" The new thundering voice made us both jump. Munkustrap let out a frightened squeal. As he stormed inside, I could practically feel the rage sparking from Old Deuteronomy's shaggy brown pelt. "After what you did last night, you expect us to trust you with your brother?" he continued. "Go to your room at once! If you want to be a role model, it's time you started acting like one!"

I was practically trembling in my fur, but I didn't dare to let it show. Instead, fear was dissembled by anger. "But, Dad—"

"No buts!" he commanded. "Your room, NOW!"

I felt Mother bristle beside me. "Darling, I think you're being a bit harsh . . ."

"And you're _certainly_ no help crooning over him like a little turtle dove!" Deuteronomy hissed. I gaped at him. He had _never_ spoken to his mate that way. Epellina seemed equally surprised at best, staring disbelievingly at him through wide yellow-green eyes.

"He needs to learn his lesson!" Deuteronomy continued. "The world is a harsh place! He won't get anywhere in life if he doesn't learn that!"

"But . . . but you're scaring Munkustrap!" Mother tried, flattening her ears to her head and holding the crying kitten close to her. All of the noise was hurting my ears.

I could see Old Deuteronomy about to argue back, but before he could get in one more word, I intervened. "All right, all right!" I declared, getting to my paws and ignoring the horrendous aching. "I'm _going_! Just ignore me! Go on and tend to your _prince_, Dad!" And, tail lashing, I stalked away. Once I reached my room, I slammed the door behind me and bit my lip as I felt hot tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. For the next several minutes that felt like hours, I could only sit, forced to listen as my parents argued for the first time in my life. And it was all my fault.

I started as a knock came at my window. As I looked up, there was Demeter smiling in at me. Seeing that she had my attention, she beckoned me to come outside.

I wanted to join her more than anything. For a moment, I was prepared to get right back up and join her, but then I paused. I was in enough trouble as it was; trying to escape from it would be foolhardy. I sat back down and dejectedly shook my head, angling my eyes to the ground.

Demeter frowned. My ears swiveled at the sound of the window opening, and the next thing I knew, she hopped right inside to join me. Trotting across the room and clearly oblivious to the situation, she planted herself beside me. "Hey," she purred sweetly, brushing her cheek against my shoulder. "I'm sorry I made you angry yesterday. I guess I got a bit excited."

I blinked, impressed that she had enough courage to risk this all for the sake of seeing me. But then I sighed. "No, no . . . it was all my fault, I promise," I muttered. "Yesterday was . . . just not a good day."

She scooted closer to me, and I felt her fur brush mine. "Oh, Maccy . . ." she cooed. "Don't blame yourself. It's got nothing to do with you, I bet."

"You try telling that to my parents," I grumbled. "_They_ were the ones who left me out last night, and then they got upset at _me_ for thinking they didn't care and running off." I sniffled. "And _now_ they're fighting for the first time ever and it's all because of me!" I turned away from her and buried my face in my paws, not wanting my best friend to see me cry.

Demeter paused a moment, listening to my parents' raised voices overtoned by my brother crying as only a day-old kitten could.

"I tried being good," I continued when she didn't speak. "I tried to make my parents happy. I just want to be a good son . . . be a prince that they can be proud of. But what am I _supposed_ to think when they leave me outside all evening and don't call me in at night anymore?" I glanced up at her and wiped my eyes. "I guess it's my fault that I ran off . . . but I came back! That's what matters, right? They didn't even let me explain myself."

"Maybe they thought there wasn't anything to explain," Demeter offered. She set her head on one side. "But if it helps, you can explain it to me . . . you'll feel better for it, you will. What _did_ happen last night?"

"I left the junkyard," I began quietly after a pause. "I don't know . . . I guess I just wanted to see what was out there. And it was incredible, Deme . . . the world is right huge outside this place. And there was a path, so I followed it. It went on a right long time, it did, and when I got to the end, I didn't even know _where_ I was. There were all sorts of human things everywhere, and they were all so huge – even bigger than that rusty old car outside! But then . . . I found some other cats . . ." My eyes clouded over. "They weren't like us Jellicles at all, Deme. They were all black, and right thin and scary-like . . . their eyes were so mean, their fur was all tangled, and they _stank_! I tried to turn around and leave, but . . ." I paused for a moment and looked down at her. "They knew who I was, Deme. And they were snarling at me and talking about Dad."

My friend's eyes were wide. I could tell she was impressed by the vivid explanation of my journey. "That's incredible," she breathed as she gazed at me in awe. "I would've been scare out of my fur, I would." Then she let her voice drop to a whisper and leaned close, as though this were now a dangerous secret just between the two of us. _If only._ "What did they say about him, Maccy?"

I took in a nervous breath. "They said . . . they said that a long time ago, _Dad_ was the one who—"

We both jumped at least half our heights in the air as the door suddenly burst open, banging against the wall. Deuteronomy marched right in, fury blazing in his usually calm eyes. "What's going on?" he thundered. His voice nearly shook the fur off of me. "What is _she_ doing here?" He turned his glare on my friend, and I heard her whimper as she cowered closer to me. I could feel her trembling.

My ears pinned back against my head. "D-Dad, she—"

"Did you invite her in?" he demanded. The wind from his lashing tail would have been enough to generate a hurricane in the English Channel. "If you did, I don't know what more can be done to you to make you see . . . however, if she came in of her own accord, it will be _she_ who must be punished so that she may learn her proper place."

It felt as though a bolt of icy lightning jolted right down my spine as he spoke the words. The alley tom's voice resonated in my mind as if echoing him, chilling me to the bone with terror. I exchanged a glance with Demeter; her eyes were huge. She _had_ come into the room of her own free will, of course, but what would happen to her if Deuteronomy knew that? I gulped as the severity of the decision I had to make smacked me right in the face. Should I be honest and give away my best friend, leaving her to the mercy of the Jellicle Leader and all of his wrath? Or should I take the fall for her and take it upon myself to bear the punishment that she didn't rightfully deserve?

"WELL?" Deuteronomy prompted impatiently. I could see his claws easing in and out of their sheaths.

"I-I invited her," I blurted, trying to sound bold, though a poorly timed crack of my voice stopped that from happening. I felt the flash of surprise from Demeter like an electric shock. "It's all my fault. I . . . I got lonely."

Deuteronomy's eyes narrowed to slits, and my blood felt as if it had turned to water. The tension in the air was so thick that I began to feel dizzy. "Get out," he ordered Demeter in the kind of whisper that was far more terrifying than any yell or scream. She obeyed without a word, skittering out through the open door behind him, though she cast me a long and grateful look before she disappeared.

My father turned back to me. "That's twice in the past day that you've gone behind our backs, young tom," he mused, speaking slowly and deliberately.

_Oh, really? Yes, I've definitely forgotten how to count overnight._ "I know," I mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

He heaved a long and heavy sigh. "Macavity, I'm very disappointed in you. I'm not quite sure yet how to punish you for this in a way that will drive the point home . . . but I trust you know that you won't get away from this easily." Before giving me a chance to respond, he continued, "Now, I want you to tell me honestly . . . what happened last night?"

I gulped. Talking about this was far easier with Demeter. A part of me didn't want my father to know about those alley cats and what they'd said about him . . . but I knew that at this point, the truth was the best approach. "Well . . . I thought you'd forgotten about me," I recalled meekly. "And I wanted to get out of here for a while . . . so I left. I don't know where I was going, but I followed the path and left the woods . . . and I found these cats." I glanced up curiously as Old Deuteronomy suddenly stiffened, but nevertheless, I continued. "They knew about this tribe, Dad, and they mentioned you."

"What were these cats like?" he interrupted, a sudden growl cutting back into his voice. "And what did they say about me?"

The demanding tone of his voice caught me by surprise; I thought he'd begun to calm down. But I answered: "They . . . they were all black, and skinny and mangy and stinky. And they were mean, too." I took a shaky breath. "The leader of them . . . he said that _you_ taught them their proper place years ag—"

"That's enough out of you!" Deuteronomy snarled, making me jump. "I don't want to hear another word about this, understand? You will stay in this room until I say you can leave, and you will NOT repeat a word of this to _anyone_! And that's final!" With that, he swarmed right back out of the room and slammed the door so hard that I felt the ground tremble.

I was left in a daze. Everything in the past two days had all happened so fast, leaving me with no time to think. But amidst all the confusion, there was one thing I knew: the encounter with the alley toms, their hostility toward me, the tribe, and my father, and Deuteronomy's sudden fit when I brought it all up . . . it was all connected. There was something much deeper going on, and now that I knew about it, there was no turning back. I had unearthed a dark secret, a long-forgotten chapter in the tribe's history . . . and, Jellicle Prince or not, I was going to get to the bottom of it. I was too far in to back out of it now, and no amount of yelling or punishment was going to stop me.


	7. Chapter 6

I wasn't allowed out of my room for the rest of the day. I couldn't decide which was the worse punishment: having to take the fall for what wasn't at all my fault, or being forced to listen helplessly to my parents' argument that seemed as though it would never end. I wasn't given any dinner that night; I assumed I'd been forgotten. An eerie quiet befell the den as evening crept upon the junkyard, and I fell asleep with the silence booming like claps of thunder in my ears.

When we are young, we are brought up on the philosophy that time cures any ailment. Tuck in for a good night's sleep, and everything will be better in the morning. Though I slept fitfully that night, I nevertheless naïvely and optimistically clung to that belief. When morning came, however, I wondered why I had even bothered.

The same stony silence that I had fallen asleep to greeted me as I pried open my eyes. I waited for what I was certain must have been an hour, just in case anything happened. What exactly I was expecting was one of many unknowns. Just as I began debating whether or not to get up and look outside to see for myself what, if anything, was happening, Old Deuteronomy marched through the doorway, making me jump. "You may come out for breakfast," he announced brusquely without a single word of proper greeting.

Inside, I was dying with curiosity, and worry sat like a stone in my stomach when I couldn't hear or see anything of my mother, who was usually the first to take me in her arms, to hug me and kiss me and tell me good morning. But on the outside, I knew better than to pry and ask questions. I seemed to know intuitively that speaking to my father when he was in this state would only make things worse. Instead, I simply nodded and got to my paws; the silence seemed infectious.

At the edge of the clearing, there was an area where the tribe's hunters stored their prey. This collection was used to feed the entire tribe; the hunters were always on their toes to keep it well stocked. In these late spring months, prey was plentiful around the junkyard, and there was a healthy variety of meat. Though I was aware of Deuteronomy's gaze burning under my pelt as I trudged forward, I could see that there was plenty of a selection left for me. That, at least, was comforting.

My stomach growled so loudly I was certain that the entire clearing could hear it. I realized for the first time how long it had been since I'd eaten, and I selected a plump young rabbit and dragged it away to a corner to eat without disturbance.

As my belly began to fill, I became aware of a cat proceeding toward me. I looked up, and Demeter smiled and cautiously waved at me. I swallowed my bite and tucked my forepaws comfortably beneath me, and set my head on one side as my friend plopped right down beside me.

"Hi, Maccy," she mewed quietly, looking up at me uncertainly as if afraid that I was being used as bait, and that my father was about to come bounding out of nowhere and attack her.

"Hello," I replied simply, shifting my weight.

"You . . . you really didn't have to do that," she mewed after a moment more of silence. "You know, yesterday. That was right brave of you, it was."

I looked at the ground modestly. "I know. But I didn't want to see you get in trouble when you didn't deserve it. Dad was already going to punish me anyway."

"I could _never _stand up to our leader like that," she went on, still awestruck. "And not only that, but you took the punishment for something you didn't even do. That's practically lying, it is!" Before I could interject, Demeter seemed to notice my father's hard gaze upon her. She leaned closer and lowered her voice. "What did he do to you? And what happened to your mum?"

The mention of my mother put knots in my stomach all anew. I stared at my half-eaten rabbit, suddenly not hungry anymore. "Deme . . . why is this all so interesting to you?" I asked, though it came out sounding more defensive than I'd intended. "You're my best friend. I would've done that for you no matter how much trouble I was in."

Her eyes shone. "Then you're a really great friend, Maccy," she mewed warmly. "The best that there ever was."

She edged closer. I felt her fur against my side, and a little purr escaped my throat as she brushed her cheek against mine.

-x-X-x-

"Maccy! Maccy!"

Something tugged on my tail. I turned around to face my little brother, who had been following me around all morning.

"This is boring!" the kitten complained. "Why're we just walkin' around in circles? I thought you said we were gonna play!"

I frowned at him. "That's not what I said, Munkustrap . . ." I muttered. "I told you I'm looking for Demeter, and that we're going to go and do some things on our _own_. You can go find Admetus to play with or something." Admetus was easily the most annoying kitten in the junkyard at that time; his attention never stayed fixated on the same thing for more than five seconds. But he did seem to be a decent playmate whenever another kitten needed one, at the very least.

Munkustrap pouted. "But _why_?" he protested. "What's wrong with me? I thought Demeter liked me!"

I scowled. Well, he had a point – that much was true. Demeter still thought that my brother was the cutest thing to grace the planet, and acted around him as if there had never been another kitten in the junkyard. "She does," I conceded in a tone that was half-sigh and half-growl. "But that isn't the point. I really don't think that she'd want to have you—"

"Who says I don't?" Demeter came skipping right up to us. "Of course we'd love to play with you, Munkustrap!"

I stared at her. Lowering my voice, I grumbled into her ear, "Deme, please . . . I'm trying to get rid of him. He's been on my tail all day." In fact, he had hardly left me alone for one single moment since he'd learned to walk. My mother thought it was adorable; I just thought it was annoying. Old Deuteronomy still had his doubts about me, of course, and ever since his argument with Epellina, he'd been looking at me with a disapproving glint in his eyes that made me feel like a mouse at his paws. Clearly, I was not shaping up to be the perfect big brother he'd wanted me to be. Like that was _my _fault. _I'm sorry, Father, but who was the one who refused to give me a decent chance to prove myself? Oh, that's right – it was you._ He'd retained a cold and distant attitude toward me ever since that night, focusing his attention instead on showering Munkustrap in all of the adoration and luxury that I used to hold in the palm of my paw. I kept my distance, but not without nursing the beginnings of a grudge that would follow me through the rest of my life. But perhaps what made me angrier yet was that Mother simply sat aside and let him do so. That day had been the first and last time I'd ever seen her stand up to my father. She'd always seemed to have a look of regret in her eyes after that, especially when she looked at me or spoke to me. She suddenly seemed quieter, and much more cautious around the old tom than I seemed to remember. I never did ask her about the scratch marks that had appeared on her face the morning after the argument.

Demeter tipped her head to one side and frowned at me. "Well, then maybe you should stop sulking around so much and actually play with him once in a while," she scolded. "If you just give him what he wants, maybe he won't annoy you so much about it. It shouldn't be that hard."

My ears laid back against my head in protest. "But I came out here so we could be alone!" I whined, not sounding much more mature than a young kitten myself.

My friend crossed her arms over her chest. "Okay, then you can stay here and _be _alone," she bargained. "_I'm_ going to go and have some fun with Munkustrap."

I watched with my mouth open as she took my delighted brother by the paw and led him away toward the center of the junkyard. I scowled at both of them and sat down on a tin can next to an array of rubbish with a stubborn "_Hmph_." And suddenly, I was struck with an unexpected sense of jealousy. I didn't know why; Demeter and I both knew that Munkustrap was far too young to be taking an interest in queens. And even if he was, what reason would I have to be jealous of him? Demeter was my best friend. Nothing more, nothing less. I was perfectly happy with the way that things were, and I didn't want them to change. I kept repeating this to myself, suddenly afraid that I might forget.

But then . . . if all that was really true, how did it explain the sudden change in the way I felt about her since Munkustrap came into my life? The dizziness that made me feel light-headed whenever she was around? The army of butterflies that fluttered around in the pit of my stomach when I felt her soft golden fur brush against mine? The way that I couldn't help but purr every time she smiled at me? I wasn't quite sure what all of these strange feelings meant, but somehow I got the sense that it wasn't something "just friends" were supposed to feel for each other.

Something jabbed me in the side, jerking me from my thoughts with a startled jump and a sharp hiss. I looked down into two little eyes that were in the process of changing from blue to green.

"No claws, Munkustrap," I muttered, rubbing my side where my brother had poked me.

"Demmy says you were starin' at her," the kitten told me. He blinked up at me, ignoring my words entirely.

I stiffened and sat up straight, caught off-guard. "Er . . . what?" I asked tersely. My eyes darted around, as if I was looking to see if anyone else had noticed, and I could feel my face growing hot.

"Demmy says you were staring at her," Munkustrap repeated innocently. "And you kinda had a funny look on your face."

I couldn't tell which was worse – the embarrassment from being caught staring at my friend under these circumstances, or the shock of hearing my little brother call her "Demmy".

Munkustrap frowned, clearly put off that I wasn't answering him. He clambered up into my lap and waved a paw in front of my face. "Maccy? Hellooo?"

I'm still not sure what came over me just then. Perhaps it had something to do with Munkustrap's complete, unadulterated innocence, the way he reminded me so much of a younger version of myself . . . perhaps it was the recent family tensions constantly playing on my nerves, the feeling that I was constantly under pressure to do the right thing. But whatever it was, I felt as though my eyes had suddenly been opened. Demeter was right. We only had so long to run around and act like kittens. Even if I'd been forced to lose an edge off of my innocence, why was that any reason to let the same happen to my brother? An unexpected grin crept onto my face, and I reached out and cuffed the tom-kitten over the ear. "I heard you the first time, you little fuzzball." Already, I could hear my own purr renewing itself in my voice.

Munkustrap's little frown flopped itself upside-down. He grinned right back at me and snatched my paw – claws sheathed this time. "I'm not a fuzzball!" he declared proudly.

"You are!" I retorted, picking him up from my lap as I spoke. He was getting heavy; I enjoyed taking advantage of the fact that I could still lift him. He began to giggle happily, squirming in my grasp; I lightly dumped him onto a pile of junk, landing him on a torn-up pillow so as not to hurt him. I took a tuft of his belly fur between my fingers. "Look at this – it's all fuzz, it is!"

Munkustrap was laughing harder now, swatting feebly and playfully at me as I leaned over him. "M-Maccy!" he squeaked. "That t-tickles!"

"Does it?" I reached down with both paws and began to relentlessly tickle the kitten's exposed belly. "How's this, then?"

He was trembling with laughter by this point, so much that his pale silver face was turning red and he didn't even bother trying to respond. Somehow, I found this so amusing that I was completely oblivious to Demeter's presence as she approached.

"M-Mac . . . Maccy!" Munkustrap, squealing with delight, was practically gasping for breath. "S-stop! I can't . . . I can't breathe . . ."

I obediently stopped and lifted my brother back into my lap. Both of us were grinning idiotically, and the tabby kitten lifted a paw to wipe the tears of laughter from his face. But as soon as he quieted down, he just burst out laughing all over again. I had to hold onto him to make sure that he didn't fall over.

Finally, he stopped, partly aided by me holding his jaws clamped shut. He gazed up at me with an adoring glow in his blue-green eyes. "You're the best brother ever, Maccy," he told me sweetly. I knew at that moment that it was impossible for me to be upset with him; I couldn't even remember why I hadn't liked him at first anymore. I even purred quietly when he nuzzled my cheek.

"Munkustrap! Munkustrap!" another young voice called from across the junkyard. We both looked up to see Admetus with one paw straight up in the air, waving in our general direction. "Come play!" he invited loudly.

Munkustrap turned his eyes back up to me for a moment, as if asking my permission. I nodded and lightly gave him an encouraging nudge. Taking the hint, he hopped down from my lap and scrambled away to join his new playmate.

Something stirred in my peripheral vision. I glanced around just as Demeter sat down beside me; I responded with a startled jump. "Hi, Deme," I greeted, quickly trying to cover my embarrassment. "I . . . didn't see you there."

She just smiled. "You do like him, don't you?" she purred, leaning against me the slightest bit as she watched the two younger kittens scampering around happily.

I felt my heart leap. "He's okay," I answered affectionately. "Not bad, for a brother."

Demeter giggled. "I knew you'd warm up to him. I could see it in the way you looked at him, I could. All you really wanted was to get to know him better."

I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah . . . I guess you were right. He _is _sort of cute, in his own way." When Demeter nodded her agreement, I could have sworn that there was something different about the look on her face, something I wasn't entirely sure that I liked. Simply shrugging it off, however, I continued: "He never really did anything wrong to make me not like him, anyway. That's my parents' fault. They don't even try to hide that he's their favorite." I sensed the queen-kit's soft gaze on me, and I sighed as I glanced down at her. "You don't know what it's like, Deme." I looked away. "You don't know how hard it is to be replaced just like that after being an only child for so long."

A moment passed in bleak silence, but then Demeter laid a comforting paw on my arm. "But he hasn't replaced you completely," she mewed. "You're still the prince, after all. It's your right, as the oldest son of our leader. It's not like Munkustrap's going to take _that _away from you."

_Oh, the irony._

"And besides . . ." she continued, a grin winding across her face once more. "You're still _my _favorite. I don't care what anyone else says about you. Your little brother may be cute, but he's no match for you." And she leaned up and kissed me on the cheek.

Instantly, I felt my face begin to grow hot. I was suddenly glad for my red fur, which hid the blush quite well. I tried to think of something to say to her, but my foolish young brain seemed to have terminated its operations.

Demeter just giggled. "You're adorable, Maccy," she purred.

"Uhh . . . yeah, I . . . uh . . . yeah," I answered very intelligently with a wide, stupid grin.

My friend raised an eyebrow. Reaching up, she knocked on my head with a fist. "Maccy? Anyone home?"

Brought back to real life, I quickly shook my head. "Er . . . sorry," I offered.

Demeter blinked. "Macavity, are you sure you're all right?" she asked me skeptically.

"Never better," I half-giggled.

My friend still didn't look convinced, but she clearly decided to give up and simply shrugged. "Well . . . you were saying you wanted the two of us to get out together? You know, spend some time alone?" She smiled with perfect innocence.

For a brief moment, I was startled by this proposition. I'd almost forgotten. "Oh . . . yeah!" I agreed almost too happily. "So, uh . . . what do you want to do?"

She stared at me. "I thought you had it all planned out."

". . . I forgot." My mind was completely blank and I'm sure my facial expression matched.

She slapped her forehead with a paw. "Right, well, come on, then. Let's just . . . go sit by the tire."

"Sounds perfect," I quickly consented. I hardly even thought to wait for her as I sprang up and started off.

Difficult to believe that a lovestruck kitten who at that moment could hardly remember his own name could possibly go on to become a scheming, despondent master criminal, isn't it? At that point in time, my life seemed perfect. I loved my little brother and I had a blissful little crush on my best friend. What could possibly go wrong now that I had all that I wanted?


	8. Chapter 7

My kittenhood sped by. It's funny, isn't it, that we seem to remember our most unpleasant experiences so vividly that we can practically smell the air from the day they happened, while the good moments simply fade into oblivion, regardless of how strongly we try to hang onto them. Even the good occasions that we do happen to remember are nearly always the prelude to something bad: the happy overture to the performance of a tragedy. I thought my life was perfect; I thought I had everything a pre-adolescent tom-kitten could want. Munkustrap hardly strayed from my side, but I didn't mind so much anymore. He quickly learned that as long as he left me alone when I was with Demeter, I would play with him later. Just as a good brother should, of course. Deuteronomy still looked at me with a cold glint of resentment in his eyes, but I'd desensitized to it. Just like I'd gotten used to both parents babying Munkustrap as though he was still not more than three days old, when they'd stopped doing the same to me long before I'd reached his age, and to my mother's strange, quiet acceptance of my father's rash actions.

Inevitably, adolescence was beginning to take its grip on me. I stood a little taller and spoke a little deeper. My headfur was growing longer, and it was beginning to bush out and take shape. A mane, almost. I wasn't sure that my parents liked it, but I did, and so I kept it that way.

Demeter was growing, too. It was gradual, as is the growth of all kittens, but if you took the time just to stand back and look, you would notice just how much she had changed – how much all of us were changing. Demeter, too, was older and taller and prettier. Her mother, Grizabella, was pregnant, and it was big news around the junkyard. Though Demeter was excited that she would finally be getting the little sibling she always wanted, both of us were somewhat confused – Grizabella had no mate, and Demeter's father was gone. We knew by now that both a tom and a queen were required to make a kitten, so the fact that Grizabella seemed to have become pregnant on her own was perplexing to us, to say the least. All that we knew was that it must have had something to do with the night not long before the news was revealed, when she had gone out and not come back until well into the next day, smelling of strange places and unfamiliar cats. We were both afraid to ask, however, so we merely let the issue be.

And, of course, Munkustrap was growing as well. Currently, he was at the awkward stage of pre-adolescence when everything about his body seemed too big for him, making him rather clumsy while he was still getting used to his own proportions. I often raised an eyebrow when Demeter insisted that he was _still _as cute as a month-old kit, but that was just another thing that I'd gotten used to with time.

And then things took a turn for the worse.

I knew that something was not quite right when my father called a meeting before the entire tribe, and I hadn't heard a word about it beforehand; Deuteronomy's family was usually the first group of cats to know when something important happened around the tribe. My second clue was the way he held Munkustrap in his lap, trying to keep the bouncing kitten still. They both seemed to be very worked up over something; I had no idea what the something was, but it gave me a sudden sense of discomfort deep down in my gut. And then I caught my mother staring at me with a look of sorrowful resignation that made my stomach turn upside-down. _Now_ I was nervous. I shuffled into the crowd of assembled cats and took my place next to Demeter, wanting but fearing the incoming news.

A hush swept over the tribe as Deuteronomy rose to his paws, Munkustrap beaming at his side. For the first time, I noticed how neatly my little brother's fur had been groomed. There was a glint in Deuteronomy's eyes that I hadn't seen in a long time: it was a glint of affection and pride.

"Jellicles . . ." he announced, his voice warm and strong. "You are looking at your new future leader."

All in one moment, I felt as though I had been struck by lightning. The feeling itself lasted only a heartbeat, but the electrifying shock and dismay lingered. I felt several curious eyes rest of me, but each of them gradually wandered back to Munkustrap. Only Demeter kept looking at me, but I didn't look back.

"My son has demonstrated all of the qualities I would expect in a leader," Deuteronomy continued, "and so it is my honor to entrust him with the duty of succeeding me, when my time comes, at the head of the tribe. Thank you for your attention."

The tribe then began to disperse at a nod of Deuteronomy's head, quietly murmuring amongst themselves and casting a few curious glances in my direction. But I remained frozen in place. I felt as though I had suddenly grown roots, holding me firmly to the spot. I couldn't believe my ears. My father had made me a promise, a promise that I had devotedly and naïvely clung to since that very day. He'd promised me all that I had ever wanted. And now, in the blink of an eye, it was gone. A strange, hollow feeling opened up inside of me, and I could practically hear the sound of my hopes and dreams crashing to the ground around me.

Something nudged me. Demeter was still there; her soft blue gaze didn't seem to have left me for a single moment. "Maccy . . ." she mewed, brushing her pelt against mine. "I'm so sorry . . ."

I shook my head and bit my lip, and stared blankly at some unseen point in the distance in front of me. "He . . . he promised me." I heard my voice trembling.

"I know," Demeter cooed sadly. "That should be you up there." Both of our two gazes drifted back to Deuteronomy and Munkustrap, father and son, leader and prince. My father was smiling – a look I hadn't seen on him in so long that it almost startled me. He held my brother in his arms, chuckling quietly as the tabby kitten spoke in his high-pitched voice about Heaviside-only-knew-what. Sunshine and rainbows, I was sure. And as I stared at them, the dismay faded, and in its place a new feeling rose: anger. At first it was anger at both of them for basking in the glory that I'd never been given a fair chance to share. But after a moment, its focus shifted. It wasn't Munkustrap I was angry at – after all, what had _he _done wrong simply by being born? – it was my father. This whole thing was _his_ decision; it was because of _him_ that I wasn't standing up there before my tribe.

"You're right," I replied to Demeter. "It _should_ be me." Eyes narrow, I began to pad forward.

"Maccy?" The growl in my voice must have frightened her, because she suddenly sounded scared. "What—"

"I'm going to talk to Dad," I growled. "I need to know what's going on."

As I approached, Munkustrap noticed me first. He wriggled out of Deuteronomy's grasp and scampered up to me. "Isn't this great, Mac?" he prompted excitedly. "I'm gonna be the leader!"

Each word was like a claw-scratch on my heart, but I ignored him. I heard him calling my name and pouting as he failed to catch my attention, but I pushed him out of the way and proceeded toward the subject of my quarrel. "Dad?"

He looked down at me, and if there was any warmth left in his face, it vanished.

"What just happened?" I demanded when he said nothing. "I thought _I _was next in line to be leader."

There was a pause, but then he bluntly replied, "You _were_."

I waited for him to say something else, but he didn't. I glared at him and flattened my ears to my head. "Then what happened?" I spat. "You never gave _me _a big fancy ceremony!"

"Don't raise your voice at me," Deuteronomy hissed, and suddenly leaned down face-to-face with me. I was powerless to resist taking a startled step backward. "You are not in a position to question me, Macavity. You _had_ the makings of a future leader I could be proud of, but you ruined it. You've no one to blame for this but yourself."

"But what the bloody hell did I DO?" My anger was mounting to rage, and the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

There are few feelings more terrifying than the feeling of dread that suddenly sweeps over you when you realize you've goofed up big-time and can't take it back. Such moments are usually accompanied by a heartbeat of terrible silence, and the only thing you can hear is your own mistake ringing in your ears. This was one of those moments. Deuteronomy slowly sat back, seeming genuinely surprised.

"Macavity . . ." His tone was unreadable, and I didn't dare to meet his gaze. "Where did you learn that?"

I wanted to say "from you", but my instincts told me that this was one of the few times when the truth might not be the most favorable option. "I . . . I don't know," I lied. "I've just . . . heard it tossed around."

"Any son of mine ought to know better than that," Deuteronomy mused. "I must say I'm disappointed in you."

As if _that_ was something I hadn't heard before. "I know," I sighed. "All right, Dad, I'm sorry, but I just—"

"You're still under the impression that 'sorry' will appease me?" he interrupted. The tone of his voice startled me.

"If it won't, then what will?" I snapped. "I've only tried _everything_. If you won't _tell _me how I can make things right again, how am I supposed to know how to do it?"

"You can't!" Deuteronomy snapped right back at me.

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you've dug yourself in too deep," he replied coldly. "You cannot undo what has been done." He rose to his paws so suddenly that I jumped. "You got yourself into this, and there _is_ no way out." And with that, he turned and stalked away.

I was so hot with rage that I feared my pelt might burn right off. "WHAT?" I bellowed to no one in particular. The discussion had created more questions than it had answered. What could I possibly have done so wrong that it made my father revoke my position as prince? Munkustrap was hardly more qualified than I was; how could Deuteronomy honestly believe that he would grow up to be any greater than I could have been? I kicked a rock in frustration; it sailed through the air and placed a sizable dent in a tin can a short distance in front of me.

Demeter ran up to me, Munkustrap right behind her. "Maccy!" she cried, and grabbed my shoulders to hold me still. "Maccy, calm down!"

"How can he _do_ that?" I screeched, trying to wriggle free of her grasp. "That rotten old fleabag! I just . . . UGH! I could kill somebody!"

"Macavity!" Demeter pleaded. "Stop it! You're scaring your brother and you're scaring _me_!"

I clawed at the air, snarling into the wind. Demeter held on tightly, and I could feel her claws piercing my skin. Then I heard my brother's voice. "M-Mac? Maccy? I'm sorry . . ."

I suddenly whirled to face him, wrenching out of Demeter's grasp with a sharp lurch that merited a frightened squeak from both of them. "It's not your fault!" I yelled at him. But as I soon discovered, yelling at a younger sibling at the top of your lungs – no matter how good of an idea it seems like at the time – isn't always the best way to get them to calm down. He ran to Demeter and clung tightly to her, staring at me in pure abject terror. When I noticed tears in his eyes, I buried my face in my paws with a groan and let my claws embed themselves in my headfur. After a moment, I took a breath and let it out with a heavy sigh as I dropped my paws. "It's not your fault," I repeated, my voice taut. "Really. It wasn't your choice. It was Dad's."

Munkustrap just continued to stare at me. He didn't look convinced. "You . . . you called him a rotten old fleabag," he recalled.

I frowned. "I know what I said," I growled. "Don't tell him, all right?"

"You didn't mean it, did you?" His voice was small and innocent.

I paused, but then shook my head. "No," I muttered. It might have only been a half-truth, but I just wanted him to leave me alone. "No, I didn't really mean it. I was just a little upset. All right?"

For the first time in a while, I was glad to hear Deuteronomy's voice when it called, "Munkustrap. Come along."

My brother cast one last glance at me. I could read his eyes like a human reads a book. He wanted to believe me and he wanted to trust me. But now he wasn't sure that he could. I supposed that, too, was my fault. The look lasted only a heartbeat, and by the time that heartbeat was over, he had detached himself from Demeter and was scrambling back to our father.

I stared after him, feeling positively awful. It took me a moment to realize that Demeter was still there.

"I know you didn't mean it, Maccy," she mewed, and cautiously took hold of my arm. "You've got every reason to be upset about it, after all."

My shoulders sagged. "Don't talk to me about it," I mumbled. "It's not going to make me feel better." Before she could object to the last part, I turned to face her. "I'm sorry if I scared you."

She met my gaze with hers, and a hundred butterflies hatched in my belly. "I understand," she told me in that perfectly innocent way that she had. "I've said this once and I'll say it again. I don't care what happens . . . you're still the true prince in my mind."

Her ears swiveled at the sound of her mother impatiently calling for her. With the new kitten due only a week or so down the road, Grizabella was about at the end of her patience all the time. But Demeter hesitated. She remained looking at me, and after a moment, she rose up on her toes and kissed me on the cheek. The action itself was nothing unusual – she'd done it before – but the way she did it felt slightly different this time. This time, there was a sense of what was perhaps longing coming from her. A sense of wanting something more. I could practically feel it rolling off of her in waves, and it sent my heart pounding so fiercely I was surprised she couldn't hear it. I wanted more too. Even after the peck on the cheek, she stayed on her toes and kept her face close to mine. I wished I could hear her thoughts, but then I realized I didn't need to. Everything was clear from the way she kept her gaze locked into mine. I didn't dare to look away until I was aware of my eyes beginning to close and my lips beginning to part as I felt her soft breath on my muzzle . . .

"DEMETER! Where the hell are you?"

Grizabella's shout, which was the kind of shout that clearly said that a certain young queen's ears were about to get clawed off if it wasn't answered, made us both jump. At first, I wasn't sure what had happened, but as Demeter pulled away from me with her face flushing, I realized with a stab of disappointment that nothing _had_ happened. Demeter was turning bright red, and I was sure that I would have been doing the same if I wasn't already that color. We both awkwardly looked away from each other, and I knew we were both equally occupied with wrapping our heads around exactly what had just happened. I dared another glance at her, and she looked at me again in return. She was fidgeting a bit, debating what to do. Unspoken words danced on her lips. Her eyes flicked up to mine for a moment that was only too brief, and then she turned without a single word and skittered back to her den to appease her impatient mother, leaving me to stare wistfully at the wake of dust she left behind.

-x-X-x-

Back in the den that was supposed to be my home, the evening hours were spent equally divided between celebrating Munkustrap and ignoring me. I did my best to keep to myself, and I suppose it worked – hardly a word was spoken to me. But as I was putting myself to bed, my mother came into the room. She gazed at me with sorrow in her eyes.

"Macavity, my darling . . . I'm sorry," she sighed, and sat down on the edge of my bed.

I blinked up at her, but before I could open my moth to ask a question, she continued, "It's not your fault. Nothing was ever your fault. Please remember that, my son . . . I'm still proud of you. Nothing is going to change that." She bent over and kissed me on the forehead, and a shadow fell in the doorway as she did so.

"Come along, darling," she shadow said.

Mother continued to stare at me for one more moment. I was almost certain I could feel pain flashing right from her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered one more time. Then she got up and padded across the room to join my waiting father, and they were gone as the door closed with a _click_.

I stared at the darkened ceiling, turning over what she had said in my mind. Then I realized that I could hear my parents' quiet voices murmuring to each other outside of my room. Knowing immediately that whatever they were talking about had to be important, I hopped right back out of bed, tiptoed across the room, and pressed my ear to the closed door to listen.

". . . You don't think you've been just a bit harsh?" Mother was asking.

"Of course not." Deuteronomy's voice was hard and decisive. "He was too curious for his own good. He needs to learn that."

"He was just a kit!" Mother snapped. "He didn't know better! How can you still be so obsessed with something that happened so long ago?"

"Because it was a dark time in the Jellicles' history, and one that is better off forgotten. Dammit, Epellina, do you not realize how big of a deal this has become now that he's uncovered it again? He can never be leader now because he knows too much!"

My breath caught in my throat. They were talking about me, all right . . . and with a chill, I realized that they were also talking about the alley toms. I pulled away from the door, trying to decipher what I'd just heard. Clearly, those toms played a bigger role in my father's past – as well as that of the whole tribe – than I'd realized. From the night I'd snuck out and found those toms, I knew I'd stumbled upon dangerous ground, but I had never realized just how dangerous it was. I never could have foreseen that it would make my father repeal the promise he'd made to me so long ago, the promise that had shaped my young life until just earlier that day . . .

Suddenly, it all made sense. My father's anger, the reason he'd replaced me as the future leader, and most of all, the look of deep regret and disappointment that had never seemed to leave his eyes since that day. My mother's sorrow, her pain, her quiet submission to her mate and his rash actions . . . well, all of that was still a mystery to me, but I knew that the answer couldn't be far off now. But, all the same, the epiphany chilled my blood: everything traced back to the alley toms. Everything. All of it. There was something far deeper going on here, and on the inside, curiosity clawed at me to know what that something was.

Something else hit me then, too. Yes, my father had made me a promise . . . but I had also made a promise to myself. I promised that I wouldn't let anything get in the way of my destiny. Deuteronomy may have broken his promise, but mine still held fast. It was just like Demeter had said all along: I was still the rightful heir of the tribe, and no one – not my brother, not my father, not anyone – had the right to take that away from me. I straightened up and narrowed my eyes as my thoughts laid themselves out before me. I was going to get to the bottom of this. I had unearthed something larger than life, and I wasn't going to rest satisfied until I knew just what it was. It was up to me to set right what had been done wrong, never mind how many years ago. This was for me to do. My destiny hadn't started that day when my father had promised me the world in the palm of my paw; it started now, when I upheld _my_ end of the promise. It was time to prove to my father once and for all that I still was the son and the prince that he always wanted to be proud of.


	9. Chapter 8

I could hardly believe I was doing this again. The first time, this had cost me my reputation, my father's respect, and my position in the tribe; I didn't want to think about what the price would be this time. I tried to believe that it didn't mater, that the reward would be worth the risk . . . but all the same, as the moon rose higher in the sky and the den quieted down, fear was chilling me to the bone as I slid out of my room.

The den was dark; all the doors were closed. My ears perked at the sound of my parents' voices still continuing on inside their room, but the voices showed no signs that their owners had heard me. With a silent sigh of relief, I cast a final glance around the den and held my breath as I crept outside.

Chilly night air buffeted me upon my exit. When I exhaled, my breath billowed out in a tiny cloud before me. Winter was on its way, arriving slowly but surely. But I was on a quest, and the cold weather wasn't going to impede me. I quickly looked around to make sure no one else was out to see me, and upon confirming that I was alone with the heaps of rubbish, I scampered across the cool, solid dirt, trying to make my paws as light as feathers upon the ground. And then, after one more pause, I decided that there was no turning back now, and I silently slipped out into the surrounding forest.

For several moments, I simply stood just outside the fence that enclosed the junkyard, taking in my surroundings and trying to get my thoughts together. I knew where I was; this place was familiar. It brought back thoughts and memories that I'd spent my life trying to forget ever since the night they were born. At first, it all made me so uncomfortable that I considered turning right back around and retreating, but I stopped myself, knowing that I had to press on. And so, clenching my fists, forward I went.

I'd only been here once before, and yet this place was as familiar as my den. But it had changed – it seemed smaller. Or perhaps I was simply bigger. Either way, my surroundings were familiar, and that, in an odd sort of way, was comforting. Leaves fluttered down from the trees like silent rain, painting the forest floor with shades of red, yellow, and brown, and only a few brave crickets remained to chirp the cooling night away. The gravel path that had cut my paws last time was now masked by a thin sheet of leaves; after a few experimental steps, I decided it was comfortable enough. So, for the second time and now knowing perfectly well the danger I was putting myself into, I followed the path into the night.

The trees, whose branches were becoming thin and bare, creaked and groaned as the wind made them sway back and forth. _Go away_, they seemed to be saying to me. Their branches clattered against each other in a jarring protest. The noises made me shudder, but I continued. Even when an owl hooted at me, scolding me for treading in its domain, I didn't falter for more than a moment.

I'd been walking for a good long while when I stopped for a rest. One thing I'd seemed to have forgotten with time was just how long of a walk this was. The junkyard had long since vanished from sight, but the city was still a fair distance off. Finding a large rock jutting out into the path, I sat down on it to soothe my aching pads.

While my footpaws breathed a sigh of relief, I looked around. My night vision had kicked in, illuminating the forest around me. There wasn't much to see; trees and dying undergrowth stretched out for what seemed like forever in all directions. With a yawn, I began to lick down a patch of fur that had been ruffled out of place during my escape, but something suddenly caught my eye. I quickly looked up again, my ears perked to detect any sign of danger as I stared into the forested abyss. Straight ahead of me, though concealed quite well by the surrounding trees, loomed a large object. Upon squinting at it and craning my neck for a better look, I saw that it appeared to be some kind of building, much like the ones between which the alley toms resided. I tilted my head to one side. Why would the humans put a building out here in the woods, so far away from everything else? My curiosity piqued, I ignored the protests of my tired paws and set off into the woods.

A fair distance off the path, I reached the building. It was even bigger up close. Unlike the buildings I'd seen in the city, however, this one seemed a little worse for the wear. Its dull gray cement walls, once solid and steadfast, were chipped and crumbling, with long visible cracks reminiscent of battle scars. It towered two stories high, and each story was dotted with windows, most of them broken. On the bottom story, many of the windows had weeds poking through them, as if they were lost souls trapped inside the building feebly trying to grope their way toward what sunlight reached the forest floor. Even the very foundation of the building seemed to be eroding away from under it. The entire construction gave off an ominous and forbidding air, as if it was trying to shoo me away and force me back to where I belonged. Yet something urged me on.

All that I could see in each of the windows was darkness. As I padded cautiously around the perimeter of the building, I came upon what appeared to be a door, cast in cold and solid metal. About halfway up, there was a knob that had once been shiny and golden in color, but was now a dull and rusted brown. The door was open just a crack, and I couldn't see any more inside from there than I could from the windows. But, nevertheless, I put my half-grown weight on the door, ignoring the icy chill the cold metal sent straight through my fur and into my skin; after a few seconds of my leaning upon it, the door eased open with a groan like the last sound uttered by a dying walrus. I shrunk back from the noise, ducking my ears as I became aware of the sound of dozens of small animals scurrying away in fright. The inside of the building seemed to be no more than an endless black void. It was truly frightening to behold, but there was something about my own fear that enticed me. Driven by a strange and inexplicable sense of adventure, I pushed my way inside.

It took a few moments more before my eyes adjusted to the more intense level of blackness. When they did, I saw that the inside of the building wasn't much more appealing than the outside. The floor, what must once have been spotless ceramic tiling, was cracked and uneven, littered with rubble and debris. Plants sprouted up in the corners and up against the walls, some of them succeeding in poking out of the windows, others left to wilt and shrivel away. Other than that, the building was completely empty inside: just one huge, cavelike room with rows of rusty, corroded metal supports reaching up to the ceiling that seemed ages above me.

I had stumbled upon an abandoned warehouse.

This place seemed as though it could hold the entire junkyard, with room to spare; all of a sudden, I felt very small. As I glanced around some more, I spotted a mere skeleton of a metal staircase that led up to the building's second level: storage rooms, perhaps. There wasn't a single sound from anywhere in the warehouse; the entire building was barren and devoid of life. The eerie stillness sent shudders down my spine, but still, a part of me longed to explore. I took a few cautious steps toward the rickety-looking staircase, but as I glanced out of what was left of one of the windows, the dim moonlight slanting in reminded me of the time. Despite the foreboding thrill of my discovery, I was still on a quest; there was no time for distractions like this. I paused, and quickly decided that exploring the warehouse could wait. So, after casting one final look around to commit this place to memory, I turned and scampered out of the door and back to the winding forest path.

-x-X-x-

The moon was past its peak in the sky by the time I reached the edge of the woods where the trees thinned out. Although my journey had left me tired, my ears perked as the sound of cars driving and their horns blaring reached me. Lights dotted the skyline of the tireless city of London before me. Ahead, I saw the backs of two looming buildings side by side, with a dark, sinister alley between them. Once again, I knew right where I was, and I grinned a triumphant little grin in spite of myself. With a sudden rush of confidence pulsing through me, I marched across the pavement and right into the alley.

The rank scent of the mangy alley toms practically smacked me in the face upon my entrance. I wrinkled my nose, but stood my ground; after a few seconds passed and I remained unnoticed, I loudly cleared my throat.

Immediately, several pairs of glowing eyes ranging from amber to green in color seemed to appear from nowhere, each of them pointed directly at me. Taken by surprise, I wanted to shrink away from them and simply melt out of sight, but I refused to let my fear show. Instead, I simply stood there, my chest puffed out and my tail flicking defiantly as the black toms approached me.

" 'Oy!" one of them called out. "Look 'oo it iz!"

" 'E'z the li'l toyke from the junkyahd, 'e iz!" another one declared, revealing crooked yellow teeth through the lewd grin on his face.

I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could, the largest of the toms landed on the ground in front of me, making me jump backward and land with an awkward stumble. I quickly recognized this tom as the leader, and narrowed my eyes at him.

"Tayken anotha' li'l step tew far ou'a bounds, 'aven't yew?" the leader sneered. "Naugh'y li'l kit, yew ah . . ."

"I'm not a kit," I corrected him, relieved that my voice came out strong and didn't quiver. "And I know I don't belong here, but this time you can't make me leave. There's something that I need to know."

A few of the toms murmured curiously amongst themselves, but the leader remained as still as a statue and glowered down at me. "This is moy territ'ry," he told me, "an Oi'll do what Oi loikes. Oi'll mayke yew leave if Oi wants tew, an' Oi don' 'ave ta tells yew nofin'."

I let out a growl. Already, this tom was aggravating me again, just as he had last time. "What's so wrong with me, anyway?" I demanded. "If you won't tell me anything else, at least tell me what you have against me!"

"Yeh'r a Jelly-cle!" one of the other toms shouted out, sending the rest of them into a fit of babbling, each of them trying to speak at once.

The leader whipped around and shouted, "Shaddup!" The toms quickly quieted down, and he turned back to me.

Before he could speak, I murmured, "So it's because I'm a Jellicle? What's that got to do with anything?"

"It's got everyfin' ta dew wif' everyfing," the leader replied coldly. His facial expression hadn't seemed to have changed the slightest bit since my entrance into the alley. "An' Oi ain' tellin' yew none of it."

"Well . . ." another tom cautiously offered after a moment of silence. "It ain't really about yew. It's about yeh' leadah, it iz."

My ears perked. Whatever I was trying to find out, this was it. "What about my . . . leader?" I stopped myself from saying "father" – I felt as though it might complicate matters if these cats knew I was Deuteronomy's son.

A warning growl rumbled in the leader's throat, but the tom ignored him and stepped forward, looking nervous. "Y'see . . . yeahs ago, when we waz a troibe of our own, we 'ad tew ask the Jelly-cles for 'elp, we did. We waz stayin' wif' them all peaceful-loike, but then yeh' leadah—"

With a snarl, the alley tom leader sprang forward and grabbed the other tom. "That's _enough_," he spat. "Back tew yeh' ranks wif' yew!"

"We didn't know we waz doin' nofin' wrong!" the tom cried out as the leader dragged him away. "Oi waz just a toiny kit when it 'appened, Oi waz! Thay forced us out, thay did, an' it waz all on accoun' of yeh' leadah troyin' tew—"

"ENOUGH!" the leader shouted. He struck the tom across the face; when he yowled in pain, the leader threw him back into the shadows among the others. He then strode right back to me. "What's 'appened to us ain't none of yeh' bizness," he growled. "If yew wants ta know about it this much, yew can just ask yeh' bloody leadah."

My jaw dropped. I'd been so close! Everything I'd wanted to know had been on the tip of the alley tom's tongue; the leader was all that was standing between myself and the truth. I couldn't let it go, not now! "But I—"

"But NOFIN'!" the leader snarled. He advanced upon me; I retreated a few steps, gulping. "Oi've told yew Oi doesn' 'ave ta tells yew nofin' if Oi doesn' wanna," he continued. "Yew ain' got no reason ta know anyfin'. Now run back tew yeh' troibe, steoopid ki'en, an' if yew comes back again Oi'll maykes a midnoight snack ou'a yew, Oi will."

I stared at him and pinned my ears back. Shaking my head in disbelief, I breathed, "N-no . . . you wouldn't really—"

"GO!" The leader leapt toward me, teeth and claws bared. I let out a kittenish squeal that couldn't have been good for the stoic image I was trying to create for myself, and turned and fled.

The sound of the alley toms' chuckling and leering after me as I retreated made a sudden burning anger flare up inside of me. Thinking about how close I'd been to what I wanted made it worse. So these toms had once been a tribe just like us. They'd reached out to the Jellicles for help, but then my father . . . what had he done? At this rate, would I ever know? I hissed at the night air in annoyance. But then I realized that the toms weren't what was keeping me from this knowledge; each of them had seemed perfectly willing to talk. It was the leader who had stopped them. It was the leader, therefore, who stood in my way. As I continued into the eerie solace of the woods, my eyes narrowed. It was becoming clear now that in order to get the information that I wanted, the leader was going to have to go. Both of the times I'd visited the alley, he alone was the one to stop me and send me right back home. If I was going to finish what I had started, I had to get rid of him . . . but how? I pondered the question with a low, angry growl flowing from my throat as I raced the descending moon back to the junkyard.

-x-X-x-

By the time I arrived back home, there was still some moonlight left, although I knew it wouldn't be long before the pre-dawn darkness took its grip on the sky. Holding my breath, as if afraid I might wake the junkyard with the sound of my breathing, I hurried as quietly as I could across the clearing to my den. When I got there, I was relieved to see that all of the doors were still closed; my absence had gone unnoticed. I headed toward my room, but before I could slip back inside of it, I suddenly overheard my parents still murmuring to each other just as they had been when I left. Wondering what they could possibly be doing still awake so late – or perhaps so early – I decided to take one more small detour for the night.

The door to their room was open just a tiny crack, but it was enough for me to peek inside and see what was going on. There was no light filtering into the room, but my parents were definitely awake in there. What I saw confused me at first: my mother was laying on her back on the bed, and my father lay on top of her. It didn't look particularly comfortable. Both of them were breathing heavily, as if they had just run to the city and back together. Not sure what was going on, I frowned, but then I leaned forward intently as Mother began to speak.

"Darling . . ." Her voice was weary. "Haven't we had enough for one night?"

There was a brief pause. When Deuteronomy answered, there was a tone in his voice that I'd never heard before. "You want to make me happy, don't you, darling? Don't you want to please me? You're losing your touch, Epellina."

"I love you, darling," Mother tried to reason, "but it's getting so late . . . I really think it's time to stop now . . ."

"You know, you've been trying my patience lately," Father told her, a warning growl cutting into his voice. "Do you really still think it wise to deny me? We certainly wouldn't want a repeat of the last time you told me no, after all . . ." He brushed one paw against the area on her cheek where there were still very faint marks, remnants of the mysterious scratches she'd gotten on the night of their argument that I still remembered so clearly.

Mother shivered, and I shivered with her. That argument had been my fault – it was the result of the last time I'd snuck out. I was going to have to tread even more carefully now than I had been already; I was afraid to imagine the consequences if my father found out what I'd done and what I'd learned this time.

"All right . . ." Mother finally sighed, bringing me back to the strange scene I was watching unfold before me. "Anything for you, darling . . ."

A twisted grin wound across Father's face, and he nodded his approval. "Good," he murmured. "I thought you might come to see my reasoning."

They exchanged no more words on the matter. I still wasn't quite sure what I was seeing; it would be a few days before I finally put it all together. But as I backed away from the door and turned toward my room, whatever it was that I'd just witnessed temporarily pushed the alley toms' plight out of my mind. Whatever my parents were doing, my mother didn't want to do it – she was doing it to please my father, and it seemed as though he had his ways of making sure that he got what he wanted. Suddenly, her strange behavior since the argument was beginning to make sense. One by one, the pieces of this giant puzzle were falling into place . . . but there were still large sections of the picture missing. That night, I'd been closer than ever to finding out what I needed to know, but at the same time, those precious key elements that linked everything together had never seemed farther away. Every new piece of information that I stumbled across just added another layer of complexity to dig through. At the beginning of the night, I'd been so determined, so certain of myself – but now I wasn't so sure. Yes, the information was there – but how far would I have to be willing to go in order to get it?

As I stepped into my room, I sighed quietly. Fretting like this wasn't going to make any progress at all. Curling up under my blankets against the pre-dawn chill in the autumn air, I forced my eyes closed and settled in for a sleepless morning.


	10. Chapter 9

The next few days were uneventful, and they crawled by at a snail's pace. So far, I had been successful in not letting a single word leak out about my most recent alley tom escapade, but I hadn't been able to think about much else – it was like a parasite feeding on my mind, and it was all I could do to stay quiet and keep my thoughts to myself. I tried to look for distractions in my everyday life to avoid the temptation to say anything, because I knew that once I said one thing about it, the rest was sure to come spilling out with it. Fortunately, distractions were generally plentiful around the junkyard. I'd been spending more and more time with Demeter and even with Munkustrap, as soon as the latter learned to hold his tongue about replacing me whenever I was within earshot, and less time with my parents. I actively tried to steer clear of my father in particular, knowing that my new wealth of knowledge would be especially difficult to keep secret from him. This proved to be an easy task, however, as he seemed to be avoiding me as much as I was him.

And then, of course, there was the news that was the latest talk of the junkyard.

It had been a few days since my little adventure when our parents called Munkustrap and me into the den, forcing us to leave Demeter waiting curiously just outside. From the moment I saw the way they were sitting together bearing the look of news on their faces, I froze. This had happened to me before; I knew what was coming.

"What is it?" Munkustrap asked, innocent and clueless. I wondered if there was any way I could sneak back out of the den without anyone noticing.

Epellina glanced up at Deuteronomy with a small smile; he gave a single nod, and there was a glint of something like affection in his eyes. With a soft purr, our mother looked down at both of us and announced, "There are going to be three of you soon . . . I'm going to have another kitten."

The look on my face and the look on Munkustrap's were complete opposites. His eyes lit up and he grinned widely; despite having prepared myself to hear those words of doom, I was horrified.

"Isn't that exciting?" Mother prompted lovingly.

Munkustrap nodded rapidly. "Yes!" he squeaked. "Now I'm gonna be a _big _brother! This is great, isn't it, Mac?"

"No," I growled. I saw Mother's face fall, but I could tell that she understood. One little sibling had been enough for me. And as I stared mutinously up at our parents, I suddenly recalled what I'd seen upon my return from the alley those few nights ago. I didn't know much about where kittens came from, but I knew enough. And suddenly, it clicked. Before anyone else had a chance to speak, I deadpanned, "It just means they had sex. What's so great about that?" Father scowled at me as the word _sex _came out of my mouth; I scowled back.

Munkustrap stared at me like I'd sprouted another head. "Huh?" he asked, looking more confused than he should have. "What's that mean?"

"You don't need to know that yet, sweetie," Mother hastily interjected after exchanging a glance with Deuteronomy, who I noticed wasn't saying a word. "All that matters is that right now, there's a tiny kitten growing inside of me. You can't tell right now, but I'm going to start to look like Grizabella soon." She offered an obviously false smile.

Munkustrap still wasn't appeased. "But I want to know," he insisted. "And if you can't tell, then how do you know the kitten is there? Where did it come from?"

I took it upon myself to clarify. "It came from Dad's—"

"That's enough," Deuteronomy interrupted, speaking up for the first time. He then lifted my brother into his lap and declared, "_I _will explain. You may go, Macavity." He aimed a warning glance in my direction.

I glared at him, but Mother nodded her agreement. "I think there's someone waiting for you outside," she reminded me.

My ears drooped, but I obediently turned around and trudged out of the den, growling under my breath. As I left, I heard Deuteronomy's voice beginning, "You see, my son, when a tom and a queen love each other very much . . ."

_Yeah, right_. I knew what I'd seen that night, and as far as I could tell, love hadn't had anything to do with it.

I found Demeter right where we'd left her. Upon seeing me, her ears flicked up, and an anxious gleam entered her eyes. "What did your parents want?" she asked me in a rush. "You're not in trouble again, are you?"

I glared at the ground. "No," I mumbled. "Worse. Mum's having another kitten."

Demeter stared at me. "Worse? Mac, that's great! How is that worse than being in trouble? Your dad is right scary when he's angry—"

I suddenly looked up and fixed my glare on her, causing her to take a step backwards, and her babbling promptly ended with a little squeak. She looked at me with wide eyes. "Look what just _one_ little brother did to me!" I snapped. "Ever since Munkustrap was born, everything I do has been a mistake in Dad's eyes. If that's what happens because of one little sibling, what's going to happen when I have _two_? What _else_ can Dad take away from me?"

Shocked into silence, Demeter regarded me with her ears pinned back. I sat on the ground with a huff and buried my face in my paws. "Where did I go wrong, Deme?" I asked, more quietly now. "I know I did something I shouldn't have, but I didn't know any better. What did I do to make Dad hate me so much?"

After a brief pause, Demeter cautiously sat down by me. "I'm sorry, Mac," she mewed. Empty words. The same ones everyone uses when they know they ought to say something, but don't know what. "But I don't think the problem is with you," she continued. "I think it's with him. _I _think he's hiding something. There has to be some other reason he did what he did."

I picked up my head and looked at her. Of course my father was hiding something – it was _what _he was hiding that was bothering me. I'd been turning what I'd learned from the alley toms over and over in my mind, but I hadn't been able to make anything of it, except that Deuteronomy must have had something to do with driving those toms out into the alleys. That information alone wasn't enough. I wasn't getting anywhere on my own, but perhaps two minds were better than one. If I had to tell someone what I knew, Demeter would undoubtedly be the best choice. "Yeah . . ." I answered. "I think he is too, but I just don't know what." I glanced around and lowered my voice. "Deme . . . can I tell you something?"

She blinked curiously at me. "Sure," she mewed, shrugging one shoulder. "What is it?"

I opened my mouth, but before anything could come out of it, a set of young pawsteps scampering toward us announced my brother's arrival. He was still grinning happily without a shade of worry in his eyes; judging by the fact that he didn't seem visibly traumatized, I guessed that our parents had fed him the same old rubbish about the Everlasting Cat sending kittens that they had to me all that time ago. "I'm back!" he announced brightly. "Did Mac tell you the news, Demmy?"

Demeter glanced at me, and I was relieved to see that there was an understanding look on her face. Then she looked at Munkustrap and put on a smile for him. "Yes, he did," she purred. "It's wonderful news. I bet you're excited."

"I am!" he confirmed. His grin was so wide by now that I feared his face might crack right in half. "I can't _wait _to be a big brother!" He was reminding me so much of myself that I almost felt sick. I, too, had been this excited over a new kitten once, but then becoming a big brother had ruined my life. I didn't think I could bear to watch the same thing happen to him.

I didn't get to empty my thoughts to Demeter that day with Munkustrap bouncing along after us like a Pollicle puppy. Even though we'd only learned about it that afternoon, I was thoroughly sick of hearing about the new kitten by the time evening fell. The next couple of days were a blur, finding me caught up in a whirlwind of thoughts buzzing around in my skull like flies around a rotting carcass. I couldn't get the information I had gleaned from the alley toms off my mind. That, and the new implications about my father that came with it, and now the new kitten on top of everything . . . it made my head hurt to think about it all. Munkustrap was even more excitable than usual, and it rubbed off on Demeter. I still wanted to talk to her, but I needed to be alone with her to do so. I was beginning to feel as though I might explode if I kept it all to myself any longer. I needed some distraction, some escape . . .

Finally, after two long, horrible days, a distraction came. A very tiny one, blind and deaf and covered in downy scarlet fur.

It was the middle of the day when Grizabella went into labor. The kitten certainly took its time; it was approaching evening by the time the ordeal was over. But, finally, Demeter burst out of her den and ran over to where Munkustrap and I, in a pitiful attempt to keep ourselves occupied, had been playing the same game of "don't-let-the-feather-touch-the-ground" for hours. "Mac! Munky!" she shouted, grinning ear-to-ear. "Come see my new sister!"

The feather drifted to the ground as Munkustrap froze with one paw half-raised. I couldn't tell who was happiest: Demeter to have a sister, Munkustrap to see the kitten, or me that the mind-numbing game was finally over. But as my brother instantly sped off, I grinned in spite of myself and let Demeter grab my paw and drag me into the den with her.

The scene was familiar from when Munkustrap had been born: there was the same milky scent in the air, and the whole room seemed to radiate warmth. Grizabella was laying splayed out on her side, looking tired and disheveled and unlike her usual glamorous self. Between her front paws was a tiny ball of fuzz, its still-wet fur drying in spikes as its mother licked it clean. The kitten was a saucy scarlet color with black flecks. It squirmed around under Grizabella's tongue, revealing a pale face and white chest just like Demeter's, and squeaky little mewls constantly emitted from it. Demeter stared at the kitten with pride glowing in her eyes; I remained neutral. I didn't know what I'd expected, but there was nothing particularly extraordinary about this. If you'd seen one newborn kitten, I decided, you'd seen them all.

Aside from the kitten's mewling, Munkustrap was the first one to break the silence. "She's so . . . _little_," he breathed, his eyes wide with wonder and fascination. "What's her name?"

"Bombalurina," Grizabella answered dully. She seemed remarkably unenthusiastic for someone who'd just brought a new kitten into the world.

"I helped pick her name out," Demeter announced proudly. "Isn't she so cute?"

I didn't answer. To my untrained eyes, a newborn kitten was about as "cute" as an alligator.

Munkustrap just stared at the kitten. "Wow," he whispered, as if afraid to disturb her. "Was I ever this small, Mac?"

"Yes, I answered with a nod. "Yes, you were." I couldn't help but smirk as I recalled my first words upon seeing my brother for the first time: _It looks like a rat!_

"Wow," he repeated, and the den lapsed into silence as Grizabella finished licking the kitten, which promptly fell asleep.

Demeter grinned at Munkustrap, who was still staring at the tiny red ball of fuzz. "You're gonna have a new little sibling just like her soon," she reminded him.

My brother beamed. "Yeah," he agreed. "I'm gonna have a new brother or sister and it's gonna be little and tiny just like this!"

I grimaced. I didn't want to hear this all over again. With a respectful nod to Grizabella and a mumbled "Congratulations", I hastily excused myself from the room.

Once outside, I was left alone with my thoughts all over again. I settled down in a corner of the junkyard, sitting with my back turned on the clearing and all of its inhabitants. After devoting a few seconds to staring out at the trees beyond the fence that peeked over the rolling heaps of garbage that caged me in, I hunched over with a heavy sigh. There was a chill in the air, foreshadowing the coming winter; my pelt was beginning to feel thicker as it grew out against the approaching cold. Yet even without it, I doubted I'd feel the cold much at all, so much had my thoughts taken control of me. Caged by my home and imprisoned by my mind – what a fine young tom I was shaping up to be.

It wasn't long before I became aware of the murmur of visitors making the sacred pilgrimage to see the new kitten in Grizabella's den. It quickly faded into nothing more than white noise, however, a mere soundtrack to my thoughts. Not a single cat noticed me, the once-adored son of Old Deuteronomy. I was a good apple with a rotten inside; all it had taken was the alley toms to take the first bite to expose me. I supposed it was fitting – like father, like son.

I don't know exactly how long we sat out there, my thoughts and I. I just knew that the sun was beginning its descent when I left Grizabella's den and nearly touching the horizon by the time a cat – luckily, the only cat I would have wanted to see – finally approached me.

"Mac?" Demeter quietly mewed as she sat down next to me. "Are you okay?" She had stopped calling me "Maccy" of late in favor of calling my brother "Munky". Although I despised being called "Maccy", when she said it I didn't mind. I rather missed it, in fact, but I didn't want to bring it to attention.

"Yes," I answered mechanically, but when I realized that it wasn't the least bit true, I attempted to amend it. "Er – no. Kind of. Not really – I don't know."

I could feel her soft gaze on me, but I didn't look at her. "What's wrong?" she asked with audible concern in her voice.

I hung my head. "Everything," I answered after a moment. "Nothing's been going right for me. I've got so much on my mind and I can't get away from it. I feel like I'm not even in control of my own life anymore."

She scooted closer to me, and I felt her fur brush mine. "What's on your mind?" she pressed. "Tell me, Mac. I don't like seeing you this way."

I lifted my head back up and looked at her. The contour of her delicately maturing face was outlined in pale orange and her eyes were like two pools of clear blue sky standing out against the sunset. She smiled at me with that soft little smile that made the cool evening air seem warm, and suddenly I couldn't help but smile back. I'd wanted – no, needed this opportunity for days, but I'd as good as given up on it and let my mind take me prisoner. But now it was here again. We were alone, and the rest of the tribe was in Demeter's den. There was no one to interrupt us this time. "All right," I agreed. "But you have to promise me you won't breathe a word to anyone else."

She looked at me and I looked at her. Suddenly, I felt something warm rest on top of my paw on the ground and realized it was hers. "I promise," she mewed. "You can trust me."

When we were kittens, an action like that would have caused us to shy away from each other in horror and disgust. But now it was different, just like everything else was different. And though most of what was different now had changed for the worse, this was one thing I didn't mind. So I kept my paw where it was, and so did she. Finally, I began. "You remember when I told you about the time I left the junkyard and found those alley toms?" She nodded, her eyes suddenly lighting up, and I continued: "I never did get to tell you what they told me that night. They said that a long time ago, Dad 'taught them their proper place'. I didn't know what that meant, but they drove me away before I could find out." I paused and took a breath to let that much sink in before I went on. "Well, a few nights ago . . . I went back. I don't know why. I guess I just wanted to know more. I found those toms again, and I tried to ask them about what they'd told me. And I did learn more, but still not enough. I've spent the past few days trying to figure it out, but I'm not getting anywhere fast." My eyes narrowed slightly. "It's the leader of those toms . . ." I reflected coldly. "He doesn't want me to know whatever it is that I'm trying to find out. But I was _so damn close_! I almost had it, but just before they could tell me the most important part, the leader chased me away and I still don't know—"

Demeter's paw lightly squeezed mine. She was shushing me, and I realized I had been starting to shout. "Ssh, ssh," she urged me. "Calm down, Mac. It's okay." Once I obeyed, she asked, "What _did_ you find out?" To my relief and faint surprise, she seemed genuinely intrigued by my story and looked eager to learn more.

I collected myself with a sigh and answered, "They told me they used to be a tribe just like us. But then they had to reach out to the Jellicles for help, I guess, and then . . . _something_ happened and they had to leave. They were forced out. That's all I know. They didn't tell me what it was that happened, but—"

"Your dad must've driven them out!" Demeter burst out, her eyes wide and uncharacteristically wild with excitement.

I sighed again and shook my head. "I've already figured that out," I muttered. "He 'taught them their proper place'. But there are still pieces of the story missing. _Why _did he drive them out? Were they doing something wrong? Why did they have to come to our tribe for help in the first place? I know something bad happened and it had to do with Dad, but there's so much else that I _don't _know that's keeping me from the real truth, which is what I'm after."

Demeter blinked. There was a frown fixed on her face as she processed all of the new information. "Well . . . how do you know that whatever happened with your dad was _bad_?" she reasoned. "It might not be like you think it is. The toms might've made it _sound _bad from their point of view, but all stories have two sides."

_Yes, my dear, they certainly do. _"That's not all," I insisted, shaking my head. "I tried talking to Dad about it the next day, but as soon as I mentioned the alley toms, he froze up and started snapping at me. He wouldn't say anything about it. And also . . . the real reason I went back. A few nights ago, I overheard my parents talking about what I did. Dad mentioned a 'dark time in the Jellicles' history', and then he said–" I gulped – "he said that the real reason I can never be leader is because I know too much. That's when I knew I needed to go back. Think about it, Deme – if this was something _good _that happened to the tribe, don't you think we would've heard about it before? It's like you said a couple days ago. Dad's hiding something, and now he knows that I know about it. That's why you can't tell this to _anyone_. It's a secret, and even if I haven't figured all of it out yet, he'll kill me if he finds out I told you."

"Our secret," Demeter paraphrased, a grin on her face like the grin a kitten gets when he tells a lie and gets away with it. "I like the sound of that. And I'll help you figure it out, Mac. It's like a big mystery." Her eyes shone as she spoke, so wide, so innocent, so perfectly blue. I suddenly found it hard to focus on anything else.

"Do you think you'll go back to the alley toms again?" she suddenly asked, looking at me with a confused frown. I blinked and realized that several seconds had lapsed in silence because I had been staring at her.

"I don't know," I sighed once I snapped out of my trance. "I don't know how much more I'd be able to learn from them as long as that leader of theirs is still there. It's a damned awful feeling when you're so close to having something and then lose it just like that."

"Oh," she murmured. I could tell that she didn't understand, but at least she was trying. She leaned against me the slightest bit and laid her head on my shoulder. "Well, alley toms or not, we can figure this out. I know we can, Maccy. Together."

I gazed down at her, and she lifted her head to gaze back up at me. That smile was making my heart race a mile a minute. "Promise . . .?" I prompted, a tiny purr forcing its way out of my throat.

"Promise," she answered, and only when I noticed her leaning in did I realize that I was doing the same. It was just like the last time, but now Grizabella couldn't stop us. I closed my eyes and our two purrs became one as her lips brushed mine . . .

. . . And then the sudden call of "Hey, Demmy!" made us jerk away from each other. We turned around to see Munkustrap running toward us; my purr quickly deepened into a growl, and my eyes narrowed at him.

"Your mum's wondering where you are," my brother told Demeter, frustratingly clueless about what he'd just interrupted. "She told me to come find you and bring you back inside, because it's getting late and—" He stopped with a startled jump when he noticed me glaring at him. I was practically seething by now. A damned awful feeling it was indeed.

Demeter glanced at me and ducked her ears apologetically. "I'm coming," she muttered, her voice completely emotionless. Her paw abandoned mine, and she stood and followed Munkustrap away without another word. Suddenly, the evening air felt cool again, and again I was alone in my cage with my thoughts. "Bloody hell," I hissed to myself, and hid my face in my paws.

The sound of rapid pawsteps pattering up behind me caught my attention. I glanced up, and my sour mood instantly evaporated as Demeter came to a stop and crouched down at the level of my face. Before I had time to speak or even process what was going on, she leaned right in and pressed her lips to mine.

It lasted one single moment that was at once as long as forever and infinitesimally short, and in that moment nothing existed but the two of us. It was rushed and, as first kisses are, sloppy and awkward and absolutely perfect.

When the moment ended – and the kiss with it – Demeter looked at me just long enough for her to smile and me to smile back before she turned and hurried away again. But this time the warmth lingered and the cage didn't feel so restricting. I may have been a bad apple, but at least one cat was able to look past the rotting part and appreciate what good fruit was left at the core.

But, as they say, it only takes one bad apple to spoil a bunch.


	11. Chapter 10

In a life bereft of fairness, it is always a small victory when something manages to go the right way. We were all a month older and a month wiser since the new kitten, Bombalurina, had been born, and even if my life wasn't perfect, at least now it was better than it had been. It had only taken a day or so after the night of her sister's birth for Demeter and me to become a couple, and a happy one we were. There were times when, upon walking around the junkyard paw-in-paw with her, I couldn't help but feel like a kitten again. The touch of her paws and the brush of her fur against mine filled me with a giddy excitement that I hadn't felt in so long. Already, even though all that was on my mind was still there, it felt like a load had been lifted from my shoulders. Demeter was helping me figure out this gigantic mystery; in return, I doted on her, agreeing to stop and play with the kittens when she wanted to. I didn't mind. I had her and she had me, and to both of us, little else mattered.

My mother approved. There was a little gleam in her eyes whenever she saw me with Demeter – I think she saw that my new queen-friend was restoring me to the happy and careless kitten I once was, and she was glad to have him back. So was I. Munkustrap, too, was happy for me, probably having noticed me growing distant of late and being rude and blunt even to him. It seemed that there was only one cat who didn't feel the positive effects of this new development: my father. When he looked at me, there was still that disapproving light in his eyes. I don't think he suspected me of knowing what I knew; I was just a failure to him because of whatever it was he had done so long ago. I didn't know enough, yet I still knew too much. I remained determined not to let his disappointment stop me, though. I was still on a quest to find out the truth, and maybe, just maybe, it would be the chance I needed to restore his faith in me.

Demeter, thankfully, was enthusiastic about helping me figure out what I needed to know. We weren't getting very far, but two brains, we hoped, were better than one. We were certain by now that Deuteronomy and those alley toms had a dark history with each other – the toms put their trust in our tribe, and he drove them out. That was all we knew for certain. Yet we knew there had to have been a reason for what he did; he couldn't have driven them out just for a laugh. We assumed at first that this reason was for the sake of the tribe – maybe the toms had some hidden malicious intent that Deuteronomy unearthed, and he forced them out so that they couldn't do whatever it was they were planning. But one of the toms had told me they hadn't done anything wrong. So that couldn't have been it. Perhaps the toms brought some kind of disease to the tribe, and Deuteronomy made them leave before it could spread? That was possible. But then a new light was shed on the matter: maybe the reason for making the toms leave _wasn't_ for the good of the tribe. We'd already deduced that my father was hiding something; this must be it. But if that was the case, how would we ever figure it out? Deuteronomy was sure to guard this secret ferociously; we weren't going to find out anything from him, and the alley toms didn't seem about to talk either. Or worse yet, what if there wasn't a reason at all? The only one who would know the truth about any of this was my father, and we'd already established that I'd lose my tail if I brought it up with him again.

Unless . . .

"I just thought of something," I blurted to Demeter one day. We were sitting together in the old oven, sharing each other's warmth as we watched Munkustrap and little month-old Bombalurina playing outside.

Her ears flicked up. "What?" she prompted, glancing up at me.

"When did it all happen?" I asked. "The whole ordeal with Dad and the alley toms . . . we never thought about when it was."

Demeter frowned slightly, confused. "What's that got to do with it?"

"What if it happened before Dad was Jellicle Leader?" I pointed out. "Maybe something happened with the toms that made Dad feel threatened . . ."

"So maybe they _were_ trying to take over!" Demeter thought aloud, her eyes lighting up. "And so your dad ended up doing something he regrets now because he wanted to stop them from taking over his position."

"And once he successfully drove them away, he never told anyone what he did so that he could still be leader . . . and he's been hiding it ever since." I grinned widely. "Of course! Why didn't we think of that before? This has to be it. What we need to do now is just ask Dad to tell the story of how he became leader—"

"How?" Demeter interrupted, the frown coming back. "In view of the circumstances, won't he think there's something a bit strange about you suddenly asking how he became leader?"

I was still grinning as I glanced outside. "Not if Munkustrap asks him instead."

I felt her looking at me, thinking about what I'd said. "That's a right smart idea," she acknowledged after a pause, and then let her gaze follow mine to my little brother. "I wouldn't've thought of that . . ."

I just chuckled. "It'll be easy. Munkustrap doesn't know anything about what's been going on, so he won't think there's anything suspicious about us wondering about Dad. We just let him hear us talking about it, and that'll make him curious enough to ask Dad himself."

She smiled, and I looked at her as she took my paw in hers. "I knew we'd get it," she purred, and brushed her cheek against mine. "We're getting close now, Mac. I told you we would."

"I know you did," I purred back, twining my fingers with hers and letting her lean against me. "You were right . . . you always are."

Both of our gazes shifted back to the playing kittens outside, and within moments, as if on cue, Munkustrap approached us, Bombalurina toddling along behind him. They clambered into the oven, and I felt Demeter press closer to me from the wave of chilly air they brought in with them.

"Done playing already?" I murmured teasingly to my brother.

" 'S too cold outside," mewed Bombalurina. She climbed into her sister's lap and curled up there comfortably; I felt the absence of warmth as Demeter sat up straight to support her.

"What were you talking about in here?" Munkustrap asked, glancing up at us. "I saw you looking at me."

I exchanged a glance with Demeter, trying not to grin. _Perfect._ "We were just talking about Dad," I answered lightly. It still pained me to say it, but I continued: "You know, you're going to be Jellicle Leader after him . . . but I don't think he's ever told us about how _he_ became leader."

"How?" Munkustrap repeated, furrowing his brow. "What do you mean? Wasn't he just born into the position like I was?"

_I was born into it first, you little bugger._ "He was born into the family just like _we_ were," I replied, "but what if there was something he had to do before he could become leader? What if he had some kind of . . . task to accomplish first?"

Munkustrap paused, and his head tipped to one side as he thought it over. "Maybe you're right," he mused, a glow of realization in his eyes. "If Dad had a task before he could be leader, maybe I'll have one too."

I nodded, and I could tell Demeter was grinning as I answered, "That's right – maybe you will. I think you should ask him so you can prepare yourself."

The little tabby then frowned. "But _you _never had a task," he recalled. "Dad chose me to be the next leader because—"

"I _did_ have a task," I corrected him. "I failed it." It wasn't exactly true, of course – I owed my encounter with the alley toms to my own curiosity. But I had to keep the illusion going, and this was the first way I thought of to do it.

My brother just looked even more confused now. "You did? But . . . what did you do? I never heard anything about you having a task."

I faltered. Munkustrap didn't know about the alley toms. Of course. It happened the night after he was born. "I can't tell you," I quickly told him to cover my hesitation. "You're not allowed to know until after you've completed your own task."

It was going so well that I didn't notice the massive hole in the lies I was feeding him – he was swallowing everything I said, and that was all I cared about. Fortunately for me, before he could ask another question, he suddenly turned and looked outside at the sound of the overgrown kitten Admetus calling his name, probably inviting him to see some kind of bug he found in the dirt. Grinning, Munkustrap stood and scampered back outside, calling, "Thanks, Mac!" over his shoulder. Only then did I notice Demeter looking at me worriedly.

"Maccy," she mewed once my brother was gone, "there _is_ no task."

I frowned. "I know that."

"So does your dad," she countered. "When Munkustrap asks him, he'll find that out. But you've already told him _you _had a task. What's going to happen when he realizes you failed the task that doesn't exist? He'll find out about our secret. And then what?"

I felt my heart plunge into my stomach. She was right. I'd bought my own lie. Dad was going to kill me. "God_dammit_!" I spat once it sunk in. "How did I not think of that?! I—"

"Maccy!" A paw landed over my mouth. "Ssh! Bomby's sleeping."

With a rush of alarm, I realized I'd forgotten about the other kitten in the oven. I glanced down, and sure enough, the scarlet furball was curled up asleep in Demeter's lap. I sighed and peeled her paw away from my mouth. "Sorry," I muttered. "I guess I just . . . got carried away with what I was telling him."

Demeter just smiled and gave my paw a squeeze. "Don't worry about it," she purred. "You're still a talented liar, Mac. When Munkustrap does talk to your dad, I know you'll be able to talk your way out of it. It's still our secret . . . and it'll stay that way."

I smiled back at her, feeling a wave of appreciation. We both looked down at the sleeping kitten once more, and then we kissed in the comforting privacy of the warm oven.

-x-X-x-

Munkustrap stayed outside playing for most of the rest of the day. I would have spent as much time with Demeter, but a few minutes before Munkustrap would have gone inside for the evening, Bombalurina started complaining of being cold, and Demeter took it upon herself to bring her inside to warmth. She seemed to be more of a mother to her sister than Grizabella was; in fact, I noticed that Grizabella wasn't being a very good mother to her new kitten at all. It was as if she simply didn't care. When I thought about it, I couldn't help but be reminded of that night when she'd disappeared and come back pregnant the next day – that, too, was somewhat of a mystery. Grizabella had never taken a mate; no one knew who Demeter and Bombalurina's father was. Was it even the same cat? Perhaps they weren't sisters, but half-sisters. Without a mate, Grizabella didn't necessarily have to remain faithful to any one cat. It was entirely possible that she simply wanted a good time with some attractive young tom, and went for a night out and just happened to get pregnant from it twice. I wasn't naïve anymore; I knew these things could happen. Demeter had told me that she'd heard other cats talking about a place called Tottenham Court Road, and that they were talking about her mother when they mentioned it. Maybe that was where she went that night – it was just another secret not-so-carefully concealed from the rest of the tribe.

"Bye, Mac," Demeter purred as she prepared to return to her den with her sister. She nuzzled me, and I grinned and nuzzled back. "It's getting a bit late, so I'll see you tomorrow." She then kissed me on the cheek; I hoped that she would have done more had Bombalurina not been watching impatiently. Even so, I couldn't ignore a little twinge of disappointment. As she padded away, holding paws with her sister, I found my eyes drawn to her bottom, to the way her tail swung and her hips swayed back and forth as she walked . . .

Now that she was gone, I could have spent the last few minutes of daylight playing with Munkustrap until it was time to go inside. I could have stayed out and done whatever I wanted. But, suddenly, I felt like going inside to my room. I wasn't sure why, but something about me felt a bit different. There was a strange kind of something I'd never felt before. It felt like an odd sort of excitement, but that wasn't quite it. At first, I wasn't sure what it was.

Upon returning to my room, I discovered something else. Whatever this feeling was, a different part of my body was responding to it too. It was a part I'd never paid much attention to – I'd never thought it served much of a purpose. I knew it was where kittens came from, but I was too young for that . . . wasn't I?

For a moment, I sat on my bed and stared at it, not sure what to do. What was making it stand up like this? All I could think of was Demeter, and how pretty she was becoming, and the way her ass moved when she walked, and oh god. It was getting harder.

My first hormone attack. How precious.

I still didn't know what I was supposed to do about it. I considered talking to my father about it, but I realized that I didn't exactly want him knowing about this. Beyond that, all I knew was that I was being overcome with a strange desire to touch, to feel, to explore . . .

It felt stiff. It was weird, but at the same time, the touch of my own paws felt good – too good. I reached down again, and this time I held it for a few seconds. That felt even better. I looked at it curiously. What was happening? I still didn't know, but now I almost didn't want it to stop. I wanted to do more, to heighten this strange feeling of pleasure . . .

Whatever this was, it didn't last long. Before I could do anything else, my ears flicked up at the sound of two sets of pawsteps, one lighter and one heavier. From the voices I heard accompanying them, I learned that it was Munkustrap coming in from the cold with Epellina, telling her all about his kittenish adventures of that day. I blinked. I was sure I'd heard a female voice together with Deuteronomy's when I first came into the den, but Epellina was just coming inside now. I frowned, trying to make this fit together in my head, but then I suddenly froze as I remembered my discussion with Munkustrap in the oven that afternoon. Now that he was coming inside for the evening, he was sure to ask our father about everything I'd told him; this could only either go very well or very badly. I was prepared for the latter. My erection and the female voice conundrum instantly forgotten, I stood and raced to the closed door of my room to listen to the impending conversation, knowing Deuteronomy would likely find it suspicious if he knew how intently I wanted to hear this.

I listened . . . and nothing happened. From what I could tell, my brother was more eager to talk about how he'd spent the day playing with Admetus and Bombalurina while I was being boring in the oven with Demeter. Thanks, baby brother.

Several minutes passed in this manner. I let out a hiss of frustration; surely he hadn't forgotten? I went back and sat on my bed, my tail flicking angrily back and forth. By the time Mother called out "Macavity, come to dinner!", whatever was left of my hopes was gone. Trying unsuccessfully to conceal my sour mood, I sulked out of my room to be greeted by the usual scene: a smiling pregnant mother, a slightly frowning father, and a happy brother waiting for me over that evening's dinner of mice.

I slumped down without a word and began to eat, but the sight of me seemed to trigger something in Munkustrap's memory. "Oh, yeah!" he suddenly burst out. "Dad, how did you become leader?"

The question took all of us by surprise. I looked up and caught my brother's gaze for a fraction of a heartbeat before it flicked curiously up to our father, who blinked skeptically. "What do you mean, my son?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

"Tell the story of how you became Jellicle Leader," Munkustrap paraphrased. "You didn't just become leader because the old leader before you stepped down, did you? Was there some kind of task you had to do first?"

Deuteronomy didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked right at me, and I felt my blood turn into water. Trying not to appear suspicious, I ducked my head and continued my meal, pretending not to be interested.

Our father sighed heavily. I was prepared for the worst, but nothing could have prepared me for what he said next. "There is a task."

It was all I could do not to choke on my mouse.

"Each new leader must complete one before he can succeed the old leader," Deuteronomy continued. "He must choose this task himself; there are no guidelines other than that it must be something that will benefit the whole of the tribe and prove his worth. He must do it alone, and he must not reveal his task until it is complete. If he completes it successfully, he will have proven himself worthy, and only then may he go on to become the new leader."

Munkustrap was fascinated. Admittedly, I was too, but I noticed that our father hadn't mentioned anything about his own task – which was what Munkustrap had originally asked him for.

The little tabby didn't seem to notice. "When will I have to choose my task?" he asked instead, an alacritous glow in his eyes.

"You don't need to worry about your task just yet," Father murmured, smiling slightly. "Most prospective new leaders wait until they have reached adulthood, or nearly so – it is wisest to wait until you have reached a level of maturity that allows you to take your task seriously."

Munkustrap nodded earnestly. Then, finally, he asked the question I'd been waiting for. "What was your task, Dad?"

The smile on Deuteronomy's face instantly faded. The air in the room suddenly felt thicker, making everyone, Munkustrap included, uneasy. "I'll tell you once you've completed yours," Father answered after a moment of stony silence.

My brother's ears drooped. "Am I not allowed to know before I've done my task?" he guessed.

That was what I'd told him in the oven, but I got the feeling Deuteronomy wasn't quite telling the truth when he answered, "Yes – that's it. No go on and wash up – it's getting to be bedtime."

Having finished my dinner, I excused myself from the room, my head spinning. So there _was _a task! Why hadn't my father told me any of this before?

The answer hit me almost at the same time as the question: the alley toms. I'd already unwittingly failed my task.

I felt my heart sink, but as I retreated back to my room, I recalled that Deuteronomy had said that the task was the upcoming leader's chance to prove himself worthy. If it was really just a matter of proving myself, then there was still hope. Unbeknownst to my father, my task was in progress right now. The fact that he'd refused to talk about his own task just proved that he was hiding something, and my task was finding out what it was. It was setting things right again, the way they should be. It was showing not just my father, but the whole tribe, that I still deserved to be the next leader as much as ever.


	12. Chapter 11

So, I was on my way. Success seemed almost within reach. Little did I know, though, another layer was about to be added to this already too-complicated case.

Corruption is something that no one ever wants to find, least of all in a governing figurehead. But, unfortunately, these are the individuals that corruption seems to favor. And, for the most part, they get away with it. A leader can be nothing but rotten to the core, and yet his people will do nothing to stop him. Sure, they can protest and they can revolt – but in the end, their own fear of anarchy comes out on top. Power wins over justice, one voice drowns out many, and corruption reigns supreme over fear.

The people rarely realize their own power.

Times were changing and I was changing. Winter was upon London now, and a thin blanket of snow dusted the ground, much to the delight of the kittens. Epellina was huge, with the newest member of our family due to arrive within the week. I was trying not to think about it, but Munkustrap refused to let anyone talk about anything else, which made it rather difficult to ignore. Fortunately, though, there was something else on my mind that took up much more of my concentration: the alley toms. I'd given up trying to figure out the whole thing – Demeter and I had collectively decided that I simply didn't have enough information to piece it all together. So I was going to go back to the alley for more.

I knew it was risky, but I told myself that the risk of letting this secret go unknown to the tribe was greater. All the same, I already knew that I couldn't bring Demeter along with me. I was afraid to think of what the alley toms might do to a young queen who stumbled into their domain, particularly one as pretty and as innocent as she. And, besides, in the quite-likely event that this would get me in trouble with the tribe, I didn't want to bring her down with me. Frankly, I was surprised I hadn't been caught as it was.

As I would soon find out, though, I wasn't the only one who had other matters to worry about.

"You're very quiet today," Demeter observed. It was colder outside than it had been in a while, and so the two of us had willingly retreated, as we had been doing increasingly often, into the insulated warmth of the old oven. The kittens were out playing in the snow, which was light and powdery in the chilly air. It wasn't the kind of snow that packed well, but it still seemed enough to keep the simple-minded kittens occupied. My queen-friend was leaning against me to share the warmth of my thick fur, her paw clasped in mine and our fingers laced together. As she spoke, I blinked, realizing that I hadn't said a word for several minutes.

"Oh – sorry," I murmured, shaking my head. "I was just thinking."

There was a pause before Demeter answered. When she did, her tone was decidedly neutral as she guessed, "About those toms?"

"Yeah," I confirmed. It wasn't a lie, at any rate. I _was_ thinking about the alley toms, but not about the mystery and what it had to do with my father – I was thinking about my new plan to see them again. I'd already decided that I wasn't going to tell Demeter that I was going back to the alley – if she knew, she would either try to stop me or want to come with me, and I couldn't risk having either of those things happen. My secrecy was for her own safety, but in retrospect, perhaps that was my first mistake.

Demeter frowned. "I thought we'd decided to give up on that," she reminded me.

I gave her a slight smile. "I never give up," I told her. "I only take breaks."

"But we decided together that we weren't getting anywhere," she persisted.

"That's not gonna stop me from trying." The smile widened into a grin, but to my disappointment, she didn't grin back.

"Deme, come on," I tried when she didn't say anything. "You know how important this is. This secret is huge. It's bigger than both of us. We can't just turn a blind eye to it, not when we're so close to the truth."

She still didn't respond. Instead, she gave me a look I couldn't decipher and turned her attention outside.

"Well, you go ahead and try," she finally told me. "But I've done all I can."

Confused by her sudden lack of enthusiasm, I followed her gaze outside. She seemed to be looking at my brother. "Deme, are you okay?" I asked. "What are you looking at?"

She was silent for another moment before she mused, "He won't be a kitten for much longer."

My brow furrowed. "I'm aware," I acknowledged. "And . . .?"

"He's grown up nicely," she added.

I looked at her and frowned. "Deme, what are you—"

"I'm just saying," she interrupted lightly. "It's true."

"You sound like my mum," I grumbled, looking away.

Demeter looked at me. "You're tired of hearing me talk about him, aren't you?" she mewed. Before I could answer her, though, she continued, "Well, that's how it is when you keep talking about those toms. There just comes a time when I don't want to hear about it anymore."

I stared at her. "You never told me that," I defended myself. "And, anyway, that's different. I thought you were excited about helping me with this."

"And I thought you cared about your little brother," she countered without missing a beat.

I froze with my mouth open for a moment, trying to fathom some retort but unable to think of anything. She had me cornered. Dammit, how do queens always do that? Even when they're wrong, they can still trick you into believing that they're right.

I sighed and let my shoulders sag. This was an argument I would be bound to lose. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. You've made your point."

"It's all right," she murmured. "Just keep that in mind. I'll gladly help you when I have something to help _with_, but in the meantime, just . . . try to focus on other things. For me." She gave me that delicate little smile.

In spite of everything, I couldn't help but smile back. "All right," I agreed. "For you."

She giggled softly, and I could see that she was looking me over. "You know," she hinted with a purr in her voice, "you've grown up nicely too."

"As have you," I chuckled in reply. I slid an arm around her and pulled her in to me; I leaned in and placed a little peck right on her lips. We broke apart with a quiet _smack_, and she looked up at me with a grin. I returned the look, and this time it was she who leaned in, and her slightly-parted lips, soft and warm against the cold outside air, met mine halfway.

You wouldn't think it from looking at her the way she is now, but when she was younger, Demeter knew a thing or two about romance. She could give a tom what he wanted. Perhaps this was a trait inherited from her mother, but wherever it came from, I never complained about it. When she kissed me, she had this way of making me feel like I was the only tom in the world. Everything else around us dissolved; we were all that existed in that moment that was always too short no matter how long it lasted.

Several seconds dragged on, and I began to want more. I came up for air, and slid my other arm around her as I leaned back in. I felt her arms drape over my shoulders, and a paw buried itself in my headfur, pulling my face closer to hers. A few seconds more, and our tongues were playing with each other.

I tightened my grip around her. Things were getting heated, but I didn't want to stop now. She tasted so good, and the cold winter air felt warmer with her in my arms. I didn't take notice of the young voice complaining, "Hey! Lemme go!" until an older one sharply cleared its throat.

Demeter and I sloppily broke apart and looked toward the oven entrance. Munkustrap and Bombalurina were standing there; my brother was staring at us with a disapproving frown, and he held a paw clamped over the scarlet kitten's eyes. There was a brief moment in which none of us knew quite what to say, but then Munkustrap impatiently asked, "Are you done?"

His voice was changing. I'd already known this, but something about the way he spoke then emphasized it. Suddenly, he seemed very authoritative. Demeter was right – he wasn't much of a kitten anymore.

I opened my mouth to reply, but Demeter, who was blushing fiercely, beat me to it. "Er—yes," she managed timidly. "Sorry you had to see that. She can come in." She was more embarrassed than she really should have been. After all, Munkustrap had seen us kiss before . . .

My brother raised an eyebrow, but let go of the squirming Bombalurina, who stumbled into the oven, blinking.

"She needs to go relieve herself," Munkustrap explained, and the kitten nodded, crossing her legs with a look of obvious discomfort on her face.

Demeter frowned. "Why can't Mummy help you?" she asked her sister.

"I can't find 'er," Bombalurina whimpered. "She's not home."

Demeter and I exchanged a glance. This had been happening more and more recently. Grizabella would disappear in the middle of the day without a trace and without warning. No one seemed to be noticing, though – just Demeter and her sister. It was strange, but not, so we all thought, a big deal. Demeter seemed to be doing well enough raising her sister in Grizabella's place. We all assumed that whatever was going on would blow over and come to an end in its own time.

My queen-friend gave me a slight nod, and I grudgingly nodded back. She looked at Bombalurina and softly murmured, "All right, come on." The kitten turned and bolted away; Demeter turned back to me and kissed me once more before following.

I grinned stupidly as I watched her walk away, but then I realized that Munkustrap was still there. The grin faded as I turned and saw him staring at me. "What?" I asked him. "Are you expecting some sort of apology? If you are, you'll be waiting a long while."

To this day, I sometimes wonder if he's still waiting.

"Tell Demeter I've gone inside," I continued as I ducked out of the oven. There was something I needed to take care of. Our passionate exchange had gotten me worked up, and Little Macavity was getting impatient.

Munkustrap blinked. "But—" he started, but I cut him off with a sharp look. He ducked his ears and murmured a bewildered "Okay . . ." and turned and wandered off, leaving the two of us alone.

I glanced down. This was a big one. This, too, was something that had been happening increasingly often lately, but it was less of a mystery. I knew what it was by now and I knew what to do about it. With a tingling sense of urgency, I hurried to my den, past my heavily pregnant mother dozing on the giant tire and past the trail of fresh pawprints in the snow that led right into the den.

I went directly to my room and closed the door with a breath of relief. Then, with a smirk, I padded up to the pile of old socks in the corner of my room that I'd been using for just this purpose and wasted no time in getting down to business.

It lasted a good several minutes. The touch of my own paws never felt so good. A shudder of ecstasy that drew forth a groan from deep in my throat, and it was over. I spent the next short while simply reclining on my bed, paws behind my head and tail swishing lazily, eyes half-closed and a relaxed purr flowing. My mind began to drift back to the subject of the alley toms. My plan to see them again was coming together, and I had to keep it a secret. That didn't seem like too much of a challenge. Once I got there, I had to figure out how to get information from them without them chasing me away again – that would be more difficult. These toms seemed convinced that I was just a stupid, weak kitten. If I could somehow show them that I was more than that and make them respect me . . .

Suddenly, I sat up, jolted out of my thinking by strange noises coming from another room. My ears flicked straight up, listening closely. It was two voices, one male and one female. But they didn't seem to be speaking – the noises sounded more like moans. The male voice was easily recognizable as my father's, and so I assumed that the other cat was my mother. But my brow furrowed as I remembered seeing Epellina on the tire when I came inside. She was still out there; I would have noticed if she had come in. And then another detail came back to me that I hadn't even noticed in my haste: there had been fresh pawprints in the snow leading directly to the den. Someone had snuck in while my mother was sleeping. And whoever it was, she seemed to be getting quite comfortable with my father.

Automatically curious, I hopped off the bed and crept out of my room. I followed my ears to a spare room in the back of the den and found the door half-open; I hid behind the jamb and peeked in. The sight that greeted me was similar to what I'd seen that night after my second visit to the alley toms, but both parties involved seemed much more passionate. My father was definitely one of them; peering closer, I stifled a gasp as I recognized the queen.

Suddenly, I knew why Grizabella kept disappearing in the middle of the day. She was screwing the Jellicle Leader.

Neither of them noticed me; my first instinct was to call out and show them that they had been caught in the act, but I stopped myself. I could use this to my advantage. Deuteronomy and Grizabella were both harboring a dangerous secret, and it had just unwittingly fallen into the wrong paws. I felt a twisted grin cross my face as I turned away. Even if he didn't know it, I now held something over my father, and I could prove everything I was seeing.

The grin faded from my face as a new perspective occurred to me. This was Old Deuteronomy. The Jellicle Leader. Our figurehead and patriarch. And he was having an affair behind his mate's back.

Corruption. I hadn't known much of anything about it before, but now it was staring me in the face. What should I do? What was anyone supposed to do when they stumbled upon a secret like this one?

I could tell Demeter. I could tell my mother. I could tell everyone. Or I could tell no one. I realized that if I was going to unmask my father, I had the potential to reveal so much more than this. It was just a matter of getting all the right information.

As I returned to my room, my mind jumped right back, once again, to the alley toms. I would sneak out and see them again, and I would do it as soon as I could. There was a dark secret being harbored – that much I knew for sure. This made two big things that my father was hiding. I hadn't failed as a prince half so much as he was failing as a leader. We both had our secrets, and we were both endangering the whole of the tribe in keeping them. The difference between us was that my father thought he could get away with it.

It was then that the urgency of my task hit me. It was no longer just a task to prove myself – it was also to reveal my father for who he truly was. He, like the alley toms, thought I was too young and stupid to do anything about him. He had no idea how wrong he was. He didn't know what I knew. Finally, _finally_, I had the upper hand. My father had wronged me one time too many, and I wouldn't rest content until I made sure he knew what a horrible mistake he'd made.


	13. Chapter 12

It was decided. The kitten was due at any time; when it came, I would sneak out again to see the alley toms, just as I had done the night after Munkustrap was born. No one had noticed me then; why would they now?

Epellina was bed-ridden. Munkustrap wouldn't shut up. All I could think of was getting out.

Time seemed to have stopped entirely. But then, finally, it happened.

This time, it was early evening when Mother's labor began. I was sitting in my room, biding my time, when Munkustrap burst in with no warning at all, his eyes wide. "Mac!" he shouted. "The kitten's coming! It's coming right now!" Before I could say anything, he ran back out again, repeating "The kitten's coming! The kitten's coming!", as if there was anyone left in the den who didn't know. Then, when his shouts quieted, I heard Deuteronomy's voice saying, "Stay out of the way, Munkustrap. Mum needs space right now."

So they didn't want either of us getting in the way. This was perfect.

Too perfect, in fact. Wanting to waste no time, I rose to my paws and exited my room. As I made for the entrance of the den, a voice behind me said, "And just where do you think you're going?"

Cursing silently, I turned around and looked up to meet my father's gaze. Now that I was growing, he didn't seem nearly so big or so scary anymore. He tried to be intimidating, but when I looked at him, all I saw was him having a grand old time with Grizabella on the floor of the spare room. "Out," I answered bluntly.

"I don't think so." His voice was condescending. I hated that tone. It made it sound as if I was his puppet, and he could make me do as he pleased. Once upon a time, he could. But now that voice was just the echo of a bygone era. I arched an eyebrow at him, but before I could respond, he continued, "You're staying right here in this den in case something goes wrong."

I frowned. "Isn't that what the _prince_ is here for?" I leered. "Aren't you worried I'll bugger something up?"

He didn't scold me for my language. He'd stopped doing that a while ago. "No," he answered in that same tone of voice that made me angry to hear. "I'm more worried about what you would bugger up if I let you leave."

A hiss escaped me. He remembered. And now he was determined not to let it happen again – though I was sure it was for his sake, not mine.

"You will stay and keep your brother occupied until the kitten is born," Deuteronomy told me.

I glanced toward my brother's room. He was mercilessly battling an old toy mouse. He'd had no shortage of energy all day; I expected it was only going to get worse from here. "He can occupy himself plenty well," I half-growled. "He's the _prince_." I figured if I was going to be stuck here, I could at least go to my room and entertain myself in my own teenage tom ways to pass the time.

"You haven't been spending much time with him," Deuteronomy countered. "Demeter isn't here for you to use as an excuse to ignore him."

_And I'm sure if Grizabella was here, you'd be ignoring your own mate, you old fleabag. _"She's not an _excuse_!" I protested. "She's my queen-friend!"

Before the argument could draw on any longer, Mother's distressed voice called out from their room. "Darling? Are you coming?"

Deuteronomy stared at me a moment longer. "Go to Munkustrap," he ordered. "He'll appreciate the reminder that he still has a brother." And with that, he turned and left.

A growl forced its way from my throat. Grudgingly, I turned as well and padded into my brother's room. "Hey there, Munkus," I greeted him, not making much of an effort to sound happy.

He looked up from his mouse, a huge grin on his face. "Can you believe it, Mac?" he asked me. "It's finally happening!"

"Not soon enough," I muttered in a half-sincere agreement.

He sat on his bed and motioned for me to sit next to him. As I did, he asked me, "Do you think it's gonna be a tom or a queen?"

"This one had better be a queen," I sighed. One brother had been quite enough for me.

Munkustrap didn't seem to hear me. "I hope it's a tom," he told me. "That way I can be as great a big brother to him as you've been to me."

He was so innocent that I couldn't help but smile. In spite of everything, the one cat whose opinion mattered most still thought I was a good brother. _In your face, Father. _"Just be careful that this brother doesn't become the next prince and replace you," I teased. I knew that wouldn't happen, though. I'd come to realize why Munkustrap was a better prince than I was – he was perfect. I was just a test run, and the test had failed.

My brother just laughed. "I will," he promised. "I won't let that happen." We sat in silence for a moment, but his next question took me by surprise. "Hey, Mac? Why did Dad replace you with me, anyway? I think you'd make a proper good leader."

I hesitated, debating how to answer. I had to be careful what I told him; I knew that if I said the wrong thing, it would go right to Deuteronomy. I couldn't tell him the full truth – at least not yet. He would know one day; they all would. But for now, how much _could _I say?

Fortunately, it was a decision I didn't have to make. Before I could open my mouth to answer, Epellina let out a loud wail. The kitten was on its way.

Munkustrap sat straight up, his ears upright on his head and his eyes wide. "What happened?" he blurted, looking up at me wildly.

"It's okay," I told him. "When the Everlasting Cat gives the kitten a push so that it comes out of the mother – or, uh, whatever Mum and Dad told you – the push hurts, that's all. That's why—"

"I know where kittens come from," Munkustrap interrupted. He looked at the floor as he explained, "When Bombalurina was born, Demeter told me what _really _happens."

I smirked. He and I remembered that night quite differently if that was the case. "Oh. Well, that way hurts too, as you can probably imagine."

He shuddered at whatever mental image this was giving him. "Yeah. You're sure Mum's okay? I'd go out and look, but I don't wanna see that."

"She'll be fine," I assured him. "The same thing happened when you were born."

He nodded, not looking entirely convinced. "Okay," he said quietly. "But Mac? Promise you'll tell me your story later?"

He hadn't forgotten, and a part of me was glad he hadn't. He deserved to know, and in due time, he would. "Promise," I answered with a little smile.

-x-X-x-

The kitten certainly took its time. It was at least midnight by the time it was over, probably later. Munkustrap had fallen asleep leaning against me, and I was in the process of trying to figure out a way to get up and leave to go to my room without disturbing him when pawsteps announced the arrival of our father. He poked his head into the room, looking satisfied to see me still there. I had to admit it was nice to see him smiling again. He glanced at Munkustrap, and then said to me in the gentlest voice I'd heard from him since my tabby brother was born, "Wake him up, son."

When he spoke to me like that, it actually made me want to obey him. I looked down and nudged the new middle child. "Hey. Wake up, Munkus. You're a big brother."

Munkustrap sat up and blinked up at me through sleepy eyes. "Huh?" he asked, but then glanced toward the doorway and was immediately awake the second he saw Deuteronomy. "Oh!" he exclaimed, hopping to his paws. "I'm a big brother, Mac! I'm a big brother!" He ran up to our father and hugged him, and then demanded, "Is it a tom or a queen, Dad?"

"It's another tom," Deuteronomy answered with a glow in his eyes. I felt my heart sink, and it was only made worse when Munkustrap cheered triumphantly. Just as I had when I'd gotten my first new brother.

Not seeming to notice my disappointment, Munkustrap scampered back over to me and grabbed my paw. "C'mon, Mac, let's go see!"

I followed him wordlessly. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't at all what I saw.

This kitten was different, to say the least. At first I thought it was all black, but as it moved around, I saw that the black fur faded into gold on its face, chest, legs, and tail. The gold parts, the same color as Mother's fur, were decorated with little brown leopard spots. It was a scrawny little thing, not prince material by any stretch of the imagination. It mewled loudly as Mother licked it, already a vocal kitten. Not that Munkustrap and I were much alike, but it was easy to tell that this kitten would be the odd one out of the three of us.

Munkustrap was amazed. "Wow," he breathed as he approached the bedside. "My baby brother . . ."

I wasn't particularly impressed. As I glanced the kitten over, I couldn't help muttering, "Are you sure that's a tom?"

Deuteronomy gave me a warning look, but Mother ignored the remark. In a drowsy purr, she told us, "He's called the Rum Tum Tugger."

"_What_?" I demanded. Yes, this kitten was different, but what the hell made him so special that he needed a three-word name plus a _the_?

"I like it," Munkustrap announced. He delicately stroked the kitten's oddly-colored fur and cooed, "Hello there, Tugger . . ."

"You know he can't hear you," I muttered. "His ears haven't opened yet."

Mother's ears drooped as she glanced up at me, but she said nothing. Instead, Deuteronomy spoke for her, as he seemed to have been doing a lot lately. "Let Munkustrap enjoy this moment," he scolded me. "If you've seen enough, you may go to bed."

I stared up at him with a look that said, _With pleasure. _Not bothering to say anything, I turned around and stalked pointedly to my room, closing the door behind me. Once there, I sat down and stared at a patch of moonlight on the floor as I debated what to do, since my attempt at leaving had been perfectly foiled. But then my ears flicked up. With my eyes, I traced the path from the patch of moonlight to the window where it was filtering in – the same window Demeter had used to sneak in and see me after my first visit to the alley toms. Even if my queen-friend was losing interest in this mystery, she was still helping me, whether she knew it or not.

I grinned and hurried over to the window. The moon was still fairly high in the sky; if I left right now, I could probably make it to the alley and back by morning. I glanced behind me as if anyone was there to see, and then slid the window open. I winced as it creaked, but I was undeterred as I climbed up and slid out into the cold night air.

My paws landed in a powdery bank of snow. After a sweeping glance around the deserted junkyard, I scampered across the clearing to the exit. I didn't bother to watch where I was going until I nearly tripped over something warm and furry.

"Hi, Macavity," a young voice said. Once I regained my balance, I looked down at the smiling scarlet kitten, who didn't seem at all surprised to see me.

"Er – hello, Bombalurina," I answered. She might not have been surprised to see me, but I was quite surprised to see her. "What are you doing? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I couldn't sleep," she mewed innocently, accenting it with a shrug. "What about you?"

"I—" I started, but before I could think of a suitable lie, she asked, "Was the kitten born yet?"

"Yes, and—"

She grinned suddenly. "Is this about your secret?"

I froze with my mouth open. "What . . . what secret?" I asked. My own voice sounded swallowed up.

"You know," the kitten said, still grinning, "the one you and Sissy call 'our secret'."

I stared at her. "How do you know about that?" I half-whispered. Demeter would never breathe a word of our secret to anyone, not even her little sister. If she had, I would—

"In the oven that one time," Bombalurina answered, interrupting my quiet panic. "You were talking to Munkustrap, and when he left, you an' Sissy started talking about some secret. I knew it was somethin' I wasn't s'posed to hear, so I pretended I was asleep 'til you started getting all kissy."

I was speechless. That was incredibly clever for a kitten that young. But then, I supposed, her mother also seemed to be quite skilled at sneaking around in other cats' business.

"Macavity?" she mewed when I didn't say anything. "Are you out here because of your secret?"

"Does your sissy know you know about the secret?" I asked in the place of an answer.

She giggled. "No. I'm not gonna tell 'er. Because it's a secret."

_Impressive_, I thought. But not impressive enough for me to tell her anything. She was, after all, just a young kitten. All it would take was one slip, and word of my misbehavior would be all over the junkyard. Until I had all the information I needed, I had to avoid that at all costs. "Good," I murmured. "Now let's get you back inside before they notice you missing."

"You still didn't answer me!" she whined, giving me a kittenish pout. "And Mummy's missing all the time. She won't care if I'm gone."

That was alarming. Deuteronomy may not have had the cleanest track record, but at least he kept an eye on his children. Or, well, he tried to. I could imagine him watching my bedroom door like a hawk at that exact moment, delightfully ignorant of how I'd evaded him. How I'd been evading him for months now, actually.

Regardless, Bombalurina clearly wasn't going to let me get away without answering her. I was almost glad when another set of pawsteps attracted our attention. Almost.

"Oh my Heaviside, Bombie, there you are!" Demeter knelt down in the snow and hugged her sister tight. "I woke up from a dream and you weren't there – I thought something had happened to you . . ." She looked at me then, and I could feel her suspicious-queen radar starting to go off. "Hello, Maccy. I didn't expect to find you out here."

I shrugged. "I have another new brother," I told her. "Things in the den are a bit crazy right now. I needed some fresh air."

"Your father let you out this late at night without anyone watching you?" she paraphrased. I faltered, and she narrowed her eyes. "This had _better_ not be about the . . ."

I made a slicing motion across my throat, telling her to nix it, and saw Bombalurina smile. She knew what was going on, but now we both had to keep Demeter under the impression that she didn't.

With a sigh, Demeter stood up, leaned in close, and hissed in my ear, "We'll talk about it tomorrow, understand?" Not even letting me answer, she pulled back and said without any emotion, "Congratulations on the new brother." She tugged on her sister's paw and muttered, "Come along, Bombie." But the kitten was pointing at something behind me. I cursed audibly when Munkustrap's voice shouted, "Mac!"

He came right up next to me and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Don't tell Dad," I immediately ordered him. He blinked and glanced back toward the den, and that's when I became aware of Deuteronomy's eyes singing my fur. I followed Munkustrap's gaze and managed a challenging glare back at the old tom.

"What was I supposed to do?" my brother argued. "I wanted to tell you good night, and when I opened the door to your room, you weren't there!" He frowned up at me. "Mac, just how much does Dad not know?"

Great. Just great. Was there anyone _else_ in the tribe who wanted to interrogate me tonight? "It's not as bad as it seems. You remember earlier how I said I'd tell you why Dad didn't want me as the next leader?"

The accusing light faded from his eyes and he slowly but curiously nodded.

"Well, that depends on him not knowing," I explained. "Look, I know you're not supposed to keep secrets from your family, but sometimes it's for the best. Sometimes the right thing seems wrong."

He still looked uncertain. "I dunno, Mac . . ." He started to look back at the den, but I lightly took him by the shoulders and he turned back to me.

"I made my promise to you," I told him. "I trust you, baby brother. And right now, I need you to promise me back not to let Dad know I'm hiding anything. Okay?"

He thought very seriously for a moment, but then looked me right in the eye. "Okay. I promise." Before I could even feel any relief, he smiled and added, "And I'm not the baby brother anymore."

I felt myself smile too. "You are to me. Let's go back inside."

He paused. "You know you're still gonna get in trouble for this, right?"

My ears drooped. "Yeah. But this time I deserve it." _For letting myself get caught. _I glanced back at Demeter and Bombalurina, who I belatedly realized had probably heard everything. Bombalurina held a finger up to her lips in a shushing motion; I smiled appreciatively at her and then looked at Demeter, who was frowning. Only two out of four cats were on my side right now, and they weren't who I was expecting. But still, this was something. "Can I get a kiss?" I tried, stepping toward my queen-friend.

"No." She turned away, leading her sister with her. "Good night."

"G'night!" Bombalurina echoed sweetly, waving a paw at Munkustrap and me.

I waved back, and then my brother and I looked at each other and I nodded. "Come on. Let's go face the storm."


End file.
